


Something of the Wolf

by Aelwyn



Series: Something of the Wolf [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: A different twist on Bad Wolf, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Falling In Love, Ficandchips, FiveRose are the best Disaster Couple, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Jimmy Stone is a horrible person, The Sarah Jane Adventures Referenced, This is the love of Agape and it gives me all the Feels, Timepetals, she's still Rose in all the ways that matter, where Rose is a Werewolf but not in a huge way
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2020-12-31 14:15:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 43
Words: 246,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21147086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aelwyn/pseuds/Aelwyn
Summary: Rio de Janeiro, Brazil 2180. The Doctor and Turlough, whilst there for Carnaval, stumble upon strange happenings... Defanging the plot will take the help of an unexpected ally in one Rose Tyler, who is not all that she seems. The Doctor, deciding to take her with him, must now negotiate the strange circumstances of a new and entirely unique Companion with a mind of her own and (in his opinion) who is almost as stubborn as he is.Through attempted kidnappings, hunts, life-saving adventures, and a continually-changing cadre of Companions she stands by his side, and the Doctor finds that maybe, just maybe, he really did discover what he was looking for the moment he found it...





	1. Loups-Garoux I

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Angels Fall](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21023624) by [Aelwyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aelwyn/pseuds/Aelwyn). 

> This story is a mix of original content and rewrites of Classic Who, New Who, The Sarah Jane Adventures, and Big Finish Audio Dramas. Rewrites you can expect to find in this are:  
CLASSIC WHO  
-The Caves of Androzani  
-Dragonfire  
-The Greatest Show in the Galaxy  
-The Curse of Fenric  
-Survival  
NEW WHO  
-Tooth and Claw  
-The Hungry Earth  
-Cold Blood  
-Vincent and the Doctor  
-The God Complex  
THE SARAH JANE ADVENTURES  
-None  
BIG FINISH AUDIO DRAMAS  
-Loups-Garoux  
-The Monsters of Gokroth  
-The Moons of Vulpana  
Note: These rewrites are not ordered by appearance in this fanfic but rather by the order in which they were aired in their respective series. There are also... I have to count... six original story arcs (interludes are considered one arc unto themselves because they are short).
> 
> For Loups-Garoux, If you haven’t heard this Audio story, you can get it for free on Spotify (though this will be problematic without Premium) or for $2.99 to buy as download on the Big Finish website.
> 
> Gotta say, this is one of my favorite stories for Doctor Who. I know, I know, it isn’t from the show. But these Audios get referenced from time to time in the reboot, so there we go. They’re loads of fun and intriguing to listen to, and Peter Davison shines in them. He, along with Colin Baker, Sylvester McCoy, and Paul McGann, gets to develop his Doctor’s character where there wasn’t time in on-screen plot to do so, and the Doctor’s companions have a level of depth to them that usually goes unnoticed in the Classic Era unless their names are Sarah Jane Smith or Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart. I say they’re well worth a listen to, and this story in particular is one that I had been dying to write for ever since I heard it. 
> 
> In fact, this entire fanfic was written because of this singular four-part Big Finish story. It seems only fitting it should be the one to draw the audience in. While there will obviously be some changes to plot to incorporate my version of Rose Tyler into it, I hope you like this story for its plot as much as I do. In the world of Doctor Who, the name of writer Marc Platt spells good things (being the scriptwriter for the Seventh Doctor Classic story Ghost Light and author of the EU books Lungbarrow and Cat’s Cradle: Time’s Crucible from which we get the legends of The Other, among numerous other contributions). 
> 
> Be sure to give me feedback on this story in particular. This is my first time doing a rewrite for an audio play rather than a typical tv episode and suggestions for improvement will greatly help troubleshoot for upcoming stories/chapters. I think some perspective changes are obvious as I figure out how to do this, but I’m trying my best with a new adaptive style in my writing. Be kind but honest, I’m doing my best.
> 
> I have a oneshot titled ‘Angels Fall’ in my series ‘Vignettes of Rose and the Doctor.’ This story is sort of inspired by that oneshot, as I wrote a small piece and decided I liked where it could go. They are not connected in plot in the slightest, but you can see the nebulous beginnings of premise in ‘Something of the Wolf’ in ‘Angels Fall’.

_ Cologne, Germany, 1589 _

_The town square was in chaos, voices overlapping each other until the only sound was that of inaudible clamor and an overtone of deep-chimed pealing bells. The banging of a gavel interrupted the call to bring forth the accused as the judge called for order. _

_People jumped out of the way as a monstrous man - tall, rippling muscles, with long, wild dark silver-streaked hair and feral eyes that looked like the next person to get close enough to bite would be his next meal - was brought snarling before the court. The outcries dwindled into half-hearted whimpers as the snarls turned to a loud, drawn-out growl and the judge had to clear his throat several times before reading the document before him._

_“Stubbe, Pieter. On this 28th day of October, in the year of our Lord God fifteen hundred and eighty-nine, I do condemn you to public execution for sorcery and the lewd, villainous, and diverse murders which you have committed in shape of a great wolf. Let first your body be broken on a wheel and your flesh be torn from your bones. Afterward, your head will be struck from your body and your carcass burned to ashes.” _

_Pieter looked up through tangled strands and smiled, baring short fangs. _

_“Will you dance for me, magistrate?” He asked, stepping forward. His guards scrambled to keep him still as the magistrate ordered for him to be held. “Shall I set the whole of Cologne dancing to my tune?” _

_“Hold him down!” The magistrate shouted again, but froze in fear as Pieter bowed toward the earth and let out a chilling growl. His clothing ripped, the seams of his shirt bursting open as thick, untamed fur sprouted along his entire body. His teeth bared, turning to long predatory fangs, and his nose and mouth elongated to become a snout even as his ears pointed and grew in size, maneuvered to sit higher on his head. Knees twisted backwards as arms grew to the same length, fingers and toes fusing together into paws. The transformation ended only half completed, a grotesque and terrifying hybrid of man and animal. _

_The crowd was in utter turmoil as the guards sprang upon him; it took many for him to be subdued and the Magistrate muttered a soft curse before ordering he be taken away. Several reverends could be heard murmuring prayers to God. _

_“Say your prayers, Lutherans!” Pieter commanded. “You have lost your faith! You’re nothing but cattle bound to my will!” _

_“Take him from this place!” The magistrate ordered, trying to find some semblance of organization in the midst of the chaos. “And may God have mercy on his soul!” _

_“You can never absolve me!” Pieter barked in laughter as he was dragged by struggling guards from the square. “Never! I never rest! I stalk the Earth for eternity!” _

_His final parting shot was a blood-curdling howl that issued from his lips before he was muzzled._

_ Amazonian Delta Desert, Brazil, 2180 _

_“Hey, Mum. It’s me, Rose. I’m... I’m okay. I just wanted you to know that... That I’m... anyway. I just. I miss the sound of your voice, and logically I know that you’re long gone by now, but still. I’ve kept my old mobile, all this time, gotten it repaired over and over again whenever it broke. Because I have saved messages. I kept them, Mum. I kept them all. And, Dunno. Just feels like... like I can still talk to you this way. _

_“I’m in Brazil, of all places. Felt drawn here, ‘s like we’re being called or somethin.’ But 175 years makes a big difference. The trees are gone, all of them, the river’s dried up. Nothing here but dust and rocks now. ‘S funny, but being 194 years old I get the sense that my life’s only just begun? Wouldn’ta made sense to you, if you were alive. Nor to Mickey, I’m guessing. Led the simple life, the both of ya. Not, not that I mean- oh, blimey. Trying to explain what I meant to a recording. I just meant that you were happy with the little things, never felt the need to explore. I think, I think I’ve come to a point where I’m wandering because I want to see things more than trying to run away, is what I’m gettin’ at. I-“_

_A wolf howl echoed over the desolate landscape and Rose eyed her surroundings warily as it was answered by more of like kind._

_“Gotta go, Mum. I love you. Never stopped, don’t reckon I ever will. The Loups-Garoux leave me alone, most days. I’m not like them and they don’t know what to do with that. But I’d rather not take my chances. They say the Grey One prowls among the packs again, and I don’t know what would happen if he found out what I was.” _

** Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, 2180 **

The conductor was pleasantly announcing the arrivals and departures for the trains bound to and away from Rio. Everything was more than a little bit hectic which was to be expected considering it was Carnaval. It was amidst this chaos that a somewhat conspicuous yet strangely unnoticed blue wooden box proudly displaying the words ‘Police Public Call Box’ at the top in the baggage area. 

~§§~ 

“Señora, a delivery for you,” a young woman said politely as she approached her mistress. The lady of the house nodded as she accepted the package tiredly, looking away from the window whose sill she was sitting at. 

“More flowers?” She murmured, accepting the gift with something past exasperation and pushing a loose reddish-brown strand of hair back into place among the braids of her carefully-composed bun. “Thank you, Inez.” 

“From another admirer?” Inez questioned innocently. “Jorge, perhaps? Or Mr. Choudrey?” 

“Just the usual admirer,” the woman sighed. She opened the electronic booklet that came with them with a partial eye roll, her hazel gaze flicking over it with disinterest. She was a beautiful woman, looking to be in her mid-thirties in appearance but poised and regal in both her sense of somewhat-dated dress and her posture, all of which exuded quiet authority.

“Thank you for reading this paper-free card,” a cheery, robotic male voice said while a techno-diddy played in the background of the audio clip. “No trees were harmed in the making of this product. Your greeting reads: ‘To Señora de Santos, Ileana your eyes flash like night wings in the old forest. How soon before our breath mingles in the twilight under the trees? I await your call!’” 

The entire message cut out as Ileana de Santos crumpled the not-paper and tossed it into a nearby bin. 

“Anton Lichfuss,” she all but snorted contemptuously. “Cut flowers from a would-be Cutclaw.”

“He’s very devoted, Señora,” Inez reminded her with a soft, sympathetic smile that looked more commiserating than encouraging. 

“And that’s all he will be,” Ileana agreed as she stood and debated the fate of the flowers. “Yapping ‘round me like an excited Chihuahua.” She sighed again. “Inez, you’d better put the flowers in water before he arrives and is insulted.”

“Yes, Señora,” Inez replied, suppressing a smirk as she left. When her task was completed she went back into the drawing room with what passed as the local paper-free newspaper. “The bulletins say there’s been another killing.” Ileana glanced up at her in surprise, brow furrowing in contemplation and worry. 

“Another?”

“On Ipanema Beach this time. The polytheia blame the wild dogs.”

“That’s... the third in as many days,” Ileana murmured, a cold feeling settling into the pit of her stomach as possible reasons swirled and coalesced in her mind. “This city starts to smell of death. I knew it was a mistake to come here.”

“But we always come for Carnaval, Señora!”

“That was my late husband’s idea. He loved the music and the crowds... they always set my teeth on edge,” Ileana admitted. She cast a worried glance toward the hall. “I’d go now, but for Victor’s sake...” 

“I thought your son looked better today,” Inez offered. Ileana shook her head.

“That’s just the daylight,” she explained. “It’s the nights that take him the worst. Doctor Hayashi insists there’s some change, but I’m not convinced. I can’t see any change at all. And I don’t think those straps will hold him much longer.” They were interrupted from the somewhat morbid conversation by the chime of the doorbell. “Who’s that at this time? Not the chihuahua already.” Inez flashed a smiled that the other woman mirrored freely as the girl opened the door, peering this way and that into the street with a confused frown.

“There’s... no one outside, Señora,” she reported. 

“Go and look anyway,” Ileana asked. The girl nodded and stepped fully out into the street. “Well? Inez?” When the girl didn’t answer she repeated herself. “Inez?” 

“There’s this package,” Inez replied, stepping slowly into the drawing room and closing the door behind her as she hefted the object for viewing. Her nose wrinkled in distaste and fear. “A box. It smells, of-“

“Put it down carefully,” Ileana commanded, knowing exactly what it smelled like. Inez nodded, dropping it onto a nearby table and rubbing her hands on her trousers. 

“Ugh, dirty and wet. Mr. Lichfuss would _never _leave something like that.” 

“No, I don’t think so either,” Ileana murmured as she carefully began opening the package. 

“The smell,” Inez complained again. “It’s old, something... rotting.” Ileana paused. 

“Yes,” she said slowly, shakily. “Let me see the card.”

“Thank you for reading this paper-free card. No trees were harmed in the making of this product. Your greeting reads: ‘A gift to the merchant’s daughter.’” Ileana gasped, paling to the color of ash, as the hated voice of her past spoke in a low gravelly tone. “‘How many fat moons since I pulled you from the snow?’”

“Señora?” Inez asked fearfully, hovering as Ileana abruptly sat down. “Who is it? What’s in the box?” 

“Don’t touch it,” Ileana snapped. 

“...It’s leaking blood!”

“Call Hayashi and the others. I want them here, Inez!” 

“But Señora-“

“I’ll attend to Victor! You get our things packed. We’re getting out of Rio, now!” Inez nodded, taking in the house with a sigh. She rather liked this place. The decor was dated but charming and elegant, the architecture spoke of history, and there were plenty of windows to let in light and fresh air. Nothing like the dreary estate they’d been to in Moscow only recently. Still, if they were leaving, they were leaving...

~§§~

“Hold still,” the Doctor chided as he lined up the 22nd century camera and snapped the picture. He smiled as he handed the device back to its owner. “There you are.”

“Thank you,” the tourist replied, genuinely so. “Thanks very much!” 

“My pleasure,” the Time Lord returned with a slight head nod as the man and his - well, she looked like she might have been wife, it was difficult to tell - walked away. “Have a nice day.”

“Doctor!” Turlough complained, catching the Doctor’s attention. “That’s the _fourth _picture you’ve taken for someone else!”

“People come a long way for this view Turlough,” he explained, somehow managing to add in a layer of chiding at the same time as he turned to take in the magnificent scenery around them and adjusted the bottom hem of his cricket jumper so that it was no longer bunching at the waist. 

“Yes, and that’s the reason why we came too, remember?” Turlough retorted sarcastically, smiling falsely as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his schoolboy uniform trousers. His copper hair caught the light just so and made it look as if his head were on fire, and the Doctor had to suppress the instantaneous bolt of jealousy that went through him like he always did whenever he was forced to be made aware of his companion’s superior hair color. 

“Yes,” he replied shortly before nodding toward the landscape. “They say the Corcovado statue is the best place to see Rio. Amazing, isn’t it? And now that the smokes of the 2020s have lifted...” his brow furrowed slightly as he considered something. “Did you get your moqueca?”

“My fish and coconut stew?” Turlough verified. “Not exactly.” The Doctor raised an eyebrow in mild confusion.

“Mm?”

“I think he saw me coming,” Turlough scoffed, annoyed. “He wanted twice the amount you gave me!”

“I think you’re supposed to haggle-“

“He kept going on about ‘ident credit implants.’ All he would sell me was this manky-looking burger,” the redhead muttered, hefting the item in question into view. They both wrinkled their noses at it. 

“Yes, well... tomato sauce can hide a multitude of sins...” the Doctor murmured, inspecting the so-called food but unwilling it seemed to actually touch it. 

“Yeah, that’s what I’m banking on,” Turlough grumped, eyeing the viscous red liquid as if it were his last hope. He looked up. “Now, what I _really _want to see is the Carnaval.” 

“It’ll be a good three days before it starts in earnest,” the Doctor admitted, still eyeing the burger with suspicion in his sky blue eyes. “Can you survive on the local cuisine ‘till then?” 

“I... might have to spend some time on a hot, sunny Rio beach to compensate,” Turlough suggested pointedly, raising an eyebrow. 

“Ah. I... I think at this date the beaches might be overrun by um, shantytowns. Displaced Indigenous, overflows from the favelas, that sort of thing.”

“Not really what I had in mind.”

“No... somehow I thought not,” the Doctor murmured, eyeing the busy streets of Rio de Janeiro rather than his companion as he ruffled the somewhat shaggy sandy blond hair at the back of his head. Turlough rolled his eyes. 

“What about you, Doctor?” He prodded, noting with some satisfaction that the Time Lord’s head had to whip ‘round to make proper eye contact. 

“Me?” He asked, surprised. It wasn’t often anyone asked him that (Turlough especially), and as such he wasn’t really prepared to give an answer seeing as he never really had cause to think about it. 

“Yeah. What do you _really _want?” 

“Well, I’m not sure I could really-“ the Doctor broke off, flustered, as he felt his face heat. “A lot of things, I suppose,” he finally finished evasively. Turlough wasn’t willing to give up so easily.

“Oh, come on,” he pressed. “How long have you been traveling? There must be something you’ve always searched for.”

“Perhaps. But I was once told that I’d know when I’d find it.” 

“...And have you?”

“What do you think?” Turlough took a few moments then to really look over his designated driver. His slightly slumped shoulders, the falsely cheerful expression on his face. The tensed muscles in his back and the balance in his legs. He just looked... tired. Not physically, Time Lords rarely ever got exhausted enough to outwardly show that, but inside. The wide, soft blue eyes were more soulful than usual, showing more of the eternity they had seen than was usually allowed to slip past the careful mask of the carefree adventurer, and Turlough found that he looked tired. 

A moment later that impression was gone as the Doctor moved to deflect his attention, and for his part Turlough let him as the Time Lord gestured with a sweeping arm to Corcovado statue and the area surrounding it. 

“Still, this view is quite spectacular. Last time I was here, the statue of Christ wasn’t even built.”

“No?”

“That would have been around... 1700... and the bay down there was full of clippers. The chief trade-“

“The chief trade being in gold and sugar.” Turlough finished the sentence for him and he looked mildly affronted by being cut off. 

“And slaves,” he finished, just to make a point. “Like most triumphant enterprises, it had its rotten underbelly.” Turlough nodded, taking a bite of his dubious food.

“Ugh!” He spat, face scrunching up in disbelief. “This burger is disgusting!” 

“Had a feeling it might be,” the Doctor retorted amusedly, a small smirk playing across his features as he clasped his hands behind his back.

“No man can eat this! It’s all greasy and, and gritty!” The Trionite ranted, ignoring him. His gaze settled on a few stray dogs sniffing about nearby and he offered it to them with an outstretched arm. “Here, you! Come on, you want it? Because I don’t.” 

“Turlough, I’m not sure that’s advisable...” the Doctor began worriedly, sighing as his companion whistled. 

“Come on, come, here! Go on!” He tossed it to the dogs and smiled satisfactorily. “That’s it. At least someone wants it.” His brow furrowed. “Shifty-looking mongrels were eyeing me up as soon as I bought the burger.” 

“Still...” The Doctor tried again. “I don’t think we should encourage them. Where do you want to go now?”

“Anywhere Doctor,” Turlough said with a shrug. “As long as we can get away from it all.” 

“Get away _from _it, Turlough, or get away _with _it?” The Doctor asked slyly, and he was gratified when his companion smirked and shook his head fondly as he chuckled. It was rare that the two of them got along so well, seeing as the Doctor was more or less enamored of humanity and Turlough couldn’t stand them (among other things they differed on, personality being a big one and the issue of the Black Guardian being a surprisingly little one all things considered). 

“Probably a bit of _both_, Doctor.” 

“Yes, I think I’d go along with that. There’s a parade down there in the city,” he suggested, pointing. “Shall we take a look?” 

“You can see that far?” Turlough asked, equally impressed and skeptical at the same time as he leaned forward and squinted. “Yeah. I’d like that.” The Time Lord grinned and took off, leaving the redhead to sigh and chase after. “Doct- Well, wait for me!” 

~§§~

Monitors were beeping erratically as Ileana hastened to mop the sweat from her son’s feverish brow. He was growling, fur sprouting like a soft fuzz all over his body, as he slowly succumbed to a complete transformation. 

“Victor, calm down,” she tried to soothe as he thrashed. “Quietly now, Shh. We won’t hurt you.”

“Señora, you _must _hold him still,” Dr. Hayashi commanded tersely.

“I’m trying to,” she retorted. “He’s not used to strangers, Hayashi. Shh, shh. Victor, it’s all right. Don’t struggle. Mother’s here.” The entire room let out a collective sigh of relief as he settled back down, monitors falling back into a rhythmic pattern. “That’s better, nothing to be afraid of. Doctor Hayashi’s here to help. No one’s going to hurt you.” 

“Just one jab,” Hayashi said regretfully as he approached his charge with a needle. Victor jerked toward his attacker as the needle went in, fanged teeth snapping.

“What are you doing, you idiot?” Ileana snapped, angry and protective of her son.

“That’s better,” the man murmured as he watched the readout before turning to his employer. “Administering his medication is proving to be more difficult than I anticipated,“ he explained. Ileana eyed him over critically; he was short, pudgy, and had large, dark eyes and receding black hair. Everything about him screamed ‘shifty,’ but she had long since come to understand that such people could be very loyal for the right price. She turned back to her son. 

“He’s sleeping again. Next time, be more careful with my son.” Ileana stood and moved into the hall. “Now, come through to the lounge. I have to discuss our departure.”

“Señora, this is ridiculous,” the man protested. 

“I _mean it_, Hayashi,” she snapped. 

“Your son’s condition is already critical. If you destabilize him further, I may never be able to affect a change in his natu-“

“We _have _to leave Rio.”

“You can’t afford to take him out in public like that!” 

“There’s no limit to what I can afford,” Ileana reminded Hayashi testily, barely sparing him a once-over. “Like your services, for instance.” Hayashi puffed in annoyance under the subtle slight. “Whatever is necessary, or payment can be reviewed.”

“No, you misunderstand,” he ground out. “My equipment, my assistant, all these are difficult to move!”

“You brought them here, you can re-establish them elsewhere. It will be quiet. No distractions...”

“But why the sudden change? I must know,” the man argued. No matter how well he was getting compensated, he was a self-recognized weasel who knew better than to stake financial gain at the cost of his life. Ileana ignored him and moved toward the entrance of the room. “Where are you going?”

A door opened out of sight as a man stuck his head in.

“Señora?”

“Herr Lichfuss,” Ileana greeted tiredly.

“I came as soon as I could,” the man said as he eyed the object of his affections concernedly. Soft green eyes took in her appearance as his tall, slight frame bent slightly toward her. “Are you safe?”

“Yes, yes, fine, Anton. For the moment. Inez,” she said, turning her attention elsewhere as she glanced down the hall toward the bedrooms, “is packing. We leave at 18:00 hours.”

“So soon?” Her admirer exclaimed, eyes widening in surprise before darkening with a possessive, protective streak. “Tell me what’s happened. You’ve had a warning.”

“Yes,” Ileana whispered, eyes darting to where Hayashi stood. “But I can’t... talk..."

“Good afternoon,” Hayashi introduced, stepping forward politely to introduce himself. The suitor rounded on him and all but snarled. 

“Who’s this?” Anton asked snappishly. Ileana rolled her eyes. 

“Herr Lichfuss, this is Dr. Matsuo Hayashi,” she explained. At once Anton’s posture relaxed and she all but had to bite her tongue to keep from growling at him. She was not his mate and if she had her way she never would be. She was a Luna, and she reserved the right to be treated as one. 

“The physician you hired to treat Victor,” Anton summarized in a condescending tone. 

“You said ‘warning,’” Hayashi mentioned, ignoring the other man. “Does this mean, Señora, that you have received some kind of _threat?_” 

“How much do you understand, doctor?” Anton asked patronizingly. The little man drew himself up. 

“I have Señora’s confidence. How else could I attempt to cure her son?” 

“Cure? That’s the last thing we want! Ileana, I thought you’d abandoned these fantasies-“

“They are _not _fantasies,” she snapped, and Anton drew back as he recognized he’d overstepped his bounds. “But we must leave Rio now.” 

“Have no fear Señora,” Hayashi assured. “I will not abandon you or your son.” _Unless it keeps me alive longer or pays better... _he added as a mental addendum. “Knowing what I know, I can’t imagine you’d ever let me walk free. So, where will we be flying to?” 

“Flying?” Both Ileana and Anton asked incredulously at the same time. Ileana continued as Anton watched the exchange curiously. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

~§§~

The trail was rocky, uneven, and steep enough to be bothersome. Naturally, the Doctor didn’t have half as much of an issue with it as Turlough did. The city was in sight now and the closer they got the easier it was for him to see the parade the Time Lord had mentioned. He could also taste the dust said Time Lord was kicking up as he outpaced him. 

“Slow _down_, Doctor!” He complained, panting. “I didn’t think you’d planned to walk down.”

“I thought you’d enjoy the fresh air,” the Doctor returned. 

“And _I _thought we had return tickets on the cog-train.”

“Only singles!”

“Shouldn’t we stick to the road at least?” Turlough stopped, suddenly suspicious as the Doctor at last slowed to a halt. “Hang on, they don’t _do _singles.” 

“Returns are for tourists,” the Doctor retorted with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. 

“I thought we _were _tourists,” Turlough snapped as the Time Lord leaned against a rock and shoved his hands into his pockets. 

“Really?” He pretended to consider. “Yes, I suppose you _could _look at it like that. Unfortunately, you spent the last of our tenable currency on that burger.” They began walking again, Turlough fuming quietly to himself before he noted something that put him ill at ease. 

“That dog’s still following us...” 

“Just ignore it, it’ll soon get bored,” the Doctor instructed, gaze flickering to watch their furry stalker nonetheless. He pointed to a spot on the horizon, trying to distract his companion from something potentially dangerous and unpleasant. “See over to the northeast, beyond the spaceport? That’s where the rainforests used to be.”

“Used to be?” Turlough repeated, surprised. When he’d been stuck on Earth at the boys’ school in the 1980s he’d heard quite a lot about how vast and essential it was. 

“Until about twenty years ago,” the Doctor affirmed with a nod. 

“You mean they finally burnt it all?” 

“Didn’t have to. The Amazon was so intensively farmed, it’s entire ecosystem caved in. The forests, the plains, they dried up through lack of rain. So-called ‘lung of the world’ turned into a monumental dust bowl stretching from here to the Andes.” He took a deep breath, remorse at what had been lost etched into every part of his features. “Thousands of unique species- birds, animals, plants - were decimated.”

“Couldn’t anyone try to stop it?” Turlough asked, horrified. “Surely, someone-“

“Oh, lots of people, nearly a war,” the Doctor sighed. “But by then Earth governments had a new toy. The untapped resources of the moon and the asteroid belt to exploit.” 

“So nobody cared,” Turlough muttered, kicking at a pebble with his shoe. The one comfort he’d gleaned from his time on Earth had been the knowledge that, though vastly different in design and ecology, this planet had had large rainforests like Trion did. It made him angry. “Humans are _so stupid!_”

“When you’ve studied humans as long as I have, it’s hard not to find them... quite _endearing_,” the Doctor countered with a soft smile. Turlough simply looked at him as if he were mad. 

“Well, _I _certainly didn’t intend to study them _this _long,” he grumbled. “Or at all, for that matter.”

“I suppose they can get a bit wearing at times,” the Doctor conceded. “All those questions, and they never seem to learn from their mistakes.”

“Dog’s still behind us,” Turlough commented, noting how the Time Lord’s shoulders tensed at the reminder. 

“I know, and a couple more have tagged along.” 

“More to the right...” Turlough picked up the pace to match the Doctor’s drawing closer to his person as he did so. 

“Just keep walking, don’t run.” There was an undercurrent of worry in his voice, his tone tense and his entire body coiled like a spring with it, and the Trionite couldn’t help but copy that as he came to a conclusion. 

“They’re turning into a pack. What do they want??“

“They’re after food.”

“I don’t _have _any more food!” 

“I don’t think they’re that _fussy, Turlough_,” the Doctor snapped irritably. “If we can just get to the road...” one of the dogs nipped at his heels and he yelped with surprise and pain, instinctively kicking as hard as he could with his foot and catching his attacker solidly between the eyes. 

“Did that hurt?” Turlough asked, concerned. 

“Just a little demoralized,” the Doctor retorted, making a considerable effort not to limp. “They’re trying to drive us into a dead en- look out!” Turlough jumped back a few milliseconds too late as the mutt nearest him caught his coat sleeve and pulled at the fabric, luckily not sinking into anything substantial. “Turlough?”

“Never liked this jacket anyway,” the boy muttered, eyeing the torn sleeve with distaste. “What do we _do?_”

“Try to divert them,” the Doctor suggested as the pack of strays circled, barking like mad. “There’s an old story about throwing the baby out to the strays to stop the pursuing wolves.”

“I threw them a _burger_, Doctor, and that only brought _more _of them!” 

“Give me a hand with the branch,” the Doctor ordered, hefting the piece of scrap wood up off the ground. It was large and heavy and looked like it could barely prove useful as a sort of lance. “We’ll have to fight our way out as best we can!” 

“But it’s tinder dry!” Turlough protested. 

“Exactly. Got any matches?” 

“...Sorry?”

“Where did I put that magnifying glass?” The Doctor muttered, rifling around in his bigger-on-the-inside pockets and regretting never taking the time to clean them out. 

“We don’t have time for that!” Turlough snapped, the way he eyed his overcoat saying that he knew exactly how messy it was without actually voicing the opinion aloud. 

“Then keep your back to the bushes and stay close to me,” the Doctor ordered. Turlough did so. “That way they only have one line of attack. Try to tackle one at a time. Ready Turlough?”

“Ready, Doctor.”

“Here they come!” They drew the branch back to thrust at the closest dog when an eery howling echoed through the small dell they’d found themselves in. The hostile movements of the dogs ceased and the two men looked at each other before trying to find the source of the sound. 

“What’s that?” Turlough whispered. The dogs suddenly bolted. “They’re going. Where are-“

“Come on,” the Doctor panted, his shortness of breath due to the release of tension in his body. “We’re not staying to find out.” When Turlough didn’t move he grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled. “_Come on!_” 

“Something frightened them off!”

“There’s the road, you were right, we should never have left it,” the Doctor admitted, too concerned about getting somewhere more populous to care about being seen as unknowledgeable. The entire time they’d been in danger of being eaten, Turlough at his side, all he could think about was Adric. He never wanted to lose another companion ever again, and this latest experience had touched on one of his most vulnerable, deepest fears. 

“But they just ran!” Turlough protested. 

“Just _keep going, _or we’ll miss that parade,” he snapped.

“_Don’t _tell me then! I don’t want to know anyway!” 

“No, Turlough, I don’t think you do!” The echoing howl flew through the air again and he shivered involuntarily. “Come on,” he added on a more gentle tone. 

~§§~

The howling carried into the city, its high-pitched tones haunting and deadly.

“Anton?” Ileana murmured, shifting closer to the man in question. “Did you hear?” 

“Across the city,” he affirmed, placing a hand on her shoulder and only realizing how terrier she was when she didn’t pull back or smack it away. “Another warning.” They both peered out the window of the house warily, unnerved. “Marking out his territory.”

“The Grey One,” she breathed in horrified reverence. “So many years since I heard that voice... I hoped it might be never again. Praying it might be the wind in the trees.”

“You’re cold,” Anton commented, concerned as he wrapped an arm across her back and began rubbing her arms. 

“It chills me,” she admitted. 

“Poor Ileana...”

“I thought the ocean might be a barrier to him. How long have I tried to fight that darkness, knowing it would always return? Slinking in, the way the moonlight always finds a crack in the shadows?” 

“He’ll have to get past me first,” Anton boasted, as much to comfort himself as her. 

“We can’t make a stand against him!” Ileana protested. “We don’t know how powerful he’s grown!” 

“I shall challenge him, most powerful or not,” he stated, puffing out his chest as his male inclination to impress his intended mate once more reared its head. The part of him that was human was screaming that he was an idiot, but the more feral part... well, it didn’t much seem to care. Most infuriating, really. 

“Don’t be a fool,” she snapped. “You don’t know him!” Aton bit back a possessive growl. This... this... ugh, no one was welcome to come sniffing after Ileana unless it was him.

“But I _will_.” Ileana’s gaze fixated on the hallway, hackles smoothing as a soft whimper echoed through the rooms.

“I was afraid Victor would wake,” she sighed. “Above all else, I must protect him.” Anton nodded. She was a mother first, a leader second, and receptive of potential suitors third. “That’s why he must get out of Rio now.”

“With that Cutclaw doctor?” He asked. Well, whined really. The fight was leaving him to be replaced by resignation. “Is your son really so ill?” 

“There’s no change,” Ileana murmured, eyes clouding with grief. “Why doesn’t he _change?_” She took a deep breath and looked at him, finding an exasperated but receptive audience. “Until Hayashi, I thought everything was lost, but he’s an expert-“

“A meddler.”

“But he has to be trusted. And we can’t stay here. Where’s Inez?” 

“We can’t run forever Ileana,” Anton pleaded as he followed her throughout the house in search of her servant. “The others won’t follow!” 

“They’ll do as I tell them!” She said confidently, turning to him with fire in her eyes. It was that stubbornness that both infuriated and aroused him. “Even you, Lichfuss!” 

If he’d had his tail at that moment, it would have been between his legs. 

“All the attentions you pay me. You must accept that the old world has changed, and I won’t sway my decision for anyone. I’m still the leader, and my word is our law.” 

“Yes, Luna,” Anton murmured passively, conceding to her status as Female Alpha. 

~§§~

The streets were busy. 

...No... busy wasn’t quite the word he would use. The Doctor had _seen _busy, _been _busy himself on more than one occasion, and this was somehow beyond that. This was absolute chaos. 

Every surface was covered in streamers, artwork, posters. Discarded confetti littered the road like flower petals during the bloom of cherry blossoms along a boulevard, easily coming up to half an inch in depth as he trailed through it in his scuffed Zed cricketing trainers. Music, many kinds in discord trumpeting out from multiple sources, competed for auditory dominance. People were pressed shoulder to shoulder as they thronged the street to dance and sing, and the Doctor - who was admittedly more introverted in his current incarnation than in previous ones when it came to large crowds - felt his discomfort rise with each step he took. 

There was no room for anything. A constant stream of muttered apologies and ‘excuse mes’ were issuing from his mouth as he trod on someone’s toes here and barely avoided a jab of elbow to his ribs there. At least Turlough seemed to be enjoying himself. He had somehow gotten himself a prime spot to watch the impromptu parade that had started up, and the Time Lord shamelessly used the excuse that he was a doctor (what they didn’t know couldn’t hurt them, right?) to make it barely unscathed to his side. 

“Look at those bird and animal masks!” The ginger explained, pointing as he turned back to the Doctor with a grin. “Some of them are almost alive!” 

“Fascinating!” The Doctor retorted, leaning forward to get a better look. They really were masterpieces in their own right, but he couldn’t help but push the significance of the moment to the side as he mulled something over and shot worried glances at his companion. “So, is this what you had in mind?”

“Oh, much more like it!” Turlough cheered. 

“A-and the business with the dogs, I’m- I apologize-“ 

“It’s all right, don’t worry!” He pointed again as several people in very flashy apparel came through in the procession. “Look at the dancers, now.” 

The Doctor slumped against the railing separating the bystanders from accidentally getting trampled and not back a sigh. It was all forgotten about, apparently. He was just a tad bit on edge with such things ever since Tegan had left. And Nyssa. And since... since Adric. People tended to _leave _after such experiences, was all. He didn’t fancy being on his own again at present. Thoughts were dark and threatened to pull him into a brooding stupor if he let them. People provided excellent distraction. 

“This isn’t even real Carnaval yet!” 

“Glad you like it,” the Time Lord murmured, smiling a faded, jaded grin that Turlough didn’t notice. 

“I do. Thank you, Doctor. Look, look, the colors on that seashell outfit! Is the whole thing made of flowers? The whole thing must be twenty foot across!” 

Since Turlough rarely ever got so optimistically excited about anything, the Doctor decided to push his insecurities away for the time being and indulge in his companion’s enthusiasm. He scanned the crowd, looking for the source of the redhead’s attention, and instantly understood what he was getting at. 

“No, no, not really,” he said as the float moved by with the object of Turlough’s interest on top of it. “It’s amazing what they can do with computer graphics these days,” he chuckled a tad nervously as some unknown stranger all but spooned him trying to edge themselves in to a better viewing spot. 

“It’s amazing how little they can cover with so much,” Turlough added drily. The Doctor smirked as the men nearby fixated on the dancer’s exposed arms, legs, and midriff. 

“Atavistic expressions of the inner human self,” he quipped sarcastically. Turlough shook his head in bemusement.

“I’ll just call it downright revealing,” he muttered. 

“Possibly back in England, but what do you expect from a population that spends the rest of the year hunched over computer screens?” Someone whistled at them with a proper metal set of tinny chirps. “And a happy Shrovetide to you too!” He added, Turlough snickering beside him good-naturedly.

“Maybe humans are just Earthy,” he suggested. The Doctor guffawed a bit at that.

“Yes, yes indeed, but preferable I’m sure to the straight-laced rigors of public school?” 

“Never again, Doctor,” the Trionite said fervently. “This, right here, is where you can see what humans are really like.” 

“Oh, let’s not turn philosophical Turlough, not today,” the Doctor whined. He blinked as the dancer bowed, her voluminous headdress staying properly in place. “Good heavens, not entirely sure how that stays up...”

“Skill?”

“Art?” 

“Yes, but I wouldn’t stare so much if I was you,” Turlough chided pointedly. 

“Really?” The Doctor asked, raising an eyebrow in interested confusion split seconds before he found out exactly what his companion had meant.

“Want to dance?” The woman asked, eyelashes fluttering seductively as she leaned forward on her float to get closer to the crowd. And, mostly what her intention had been the Doctor wagered, he ended up getting rather a detailed view of her bedazzled bikini halter top.

“Ah,” he shuddered, entire face (and body, he was certain) coloring a rather spectacular shade of red. 

“Come on, let’s dance,” she purred, reaching for him as he tried to back away - a feat mostly impossible with the press of the crowd. Turlough, predictably, was no help whatsoever as he laughed at him. 

“N-not really, thank you,” the Doctor stuttered. 

“Nah, let’s dance to a _samba_.” 

“It- it’s really very kind of you, but- but not just now, _really.” _

“But everybody dances at Carnaval,” she pressed. She’d gotten down from the float to lean against the dividing railing. “I’ll show you how.” 

“No, thank you, please, no,” he all but begged. Did she not understand the meaning of the word ‘no?’ It was this blasted face, really. He’d gone a tad too young this time around, too young and for some reason people seemed to like the blond hair and blue eyes. 

...He didn’t get people. Not human people anyway, it seemed. 

“Oh go on Doctor, get in there,” Turlough growled, giving him a nudge as he kept laughing at his expense. The Doctor was suddenly pressed against the railing, the woman’s hand trailing across his cricket jumper, and he squirmed as he tried to get away. 

“Yes, we samba all the way to Sugarloaf and back again,” she chirped. 

“No- let go!” He demanded, trying desperately to remain civil when he wanted to say much more... uncouth things to get her to go away. “I- I’m saving myself for the big day, thank you!” 

“Fine,” she sighed, sauntering away with a decided swing to her hips as the other males practically drooled for her attentions. She’d apparent decided that he wasn’t merely _playing_ hard to get and that he actually _was _hard to get, luckily. He couldn’t help but heave a sigh of relief when she’d left, the overpowering scent of her perfume still clogging his nasal passages. 

“Oh, don’t be such a coward Doctor, you could-“ Turlough cut himself off mid-jibe, breathing quickly and heavily as his pupils dilated and he paled. 

“Turlough?” The Doctor asked, quickly putting a hand out to steady his friend as the boy swayed on his feet. “What’s the matter?” 

“What is it?” He asked frantically, gaze darting around looking for- whatever it was. 

“Don’t move!” The Doctor ordered as he felt something decided foreign brushing quite forcefully at his telepathic shields. He glanced around, intent to find the source, and frowned. “Something’s... coming through the crowd...”

“I must- I must get back-“

“No, no! Don’t move. Don’t turn into the crowd Turlough, listen to me.” He had a hand on either soldier, their faces close together. He was, in fact, only moments away from deciding to help him out telepathically if he had to. 

“We have to move! Have to let it through.” Turlough settled down slightly as the car passed by, the crowd murmuring confusedly to itself as it shook off the influence. The Doctor sighed in relief.

“Turlough, listen to me,” he said firmly but gently. “I have to follow that car.” Turlough groaned at the very thought and he sighed. “Look, just stay here, I’ll be back.” 

“No, don’t go Doctor, wait for me!” Turlough called weakly before shuddering. “Something else is coming... who- who’s that?” He drew back with a shudder as a large, growling dark _something _stalked past. “Those eyes... black and gold... who are you?” The creature stopped, stare boring into his very soul and leaving him immensely unsettled. “Don’t look at me like that!” 

“Good day to you young stranger,” the creature said in a smooth, gravelly voice. It was sinister and deep, dark and dangerous. “What fierce eyes you have.” 

“Like you then, aren’t I?” Turlough retorted, fear causing adrenaline to course through his system and provide the boost he needed to appear braver as he found his voice and pulled his backbone from his hip pocket. The creature growled. “What do you want?” 

“Do you have any food for a hungry wanderer?” His silky voice would most likely have lulled anyone else with its strangely hypnotic cadence, but Turlough had known the Black Guardian and knew better than to fall for the same thing twice. “No? Perhaps I was wrong. I was told there was a young fellow, with food to throw away. A hunter, I thought, but... you have the lean, hungry look of a common jackal,” the stranger sneered. Turlough scowled at him even as his breath quavered. 

“Leave me alone,” he snapped. The creature smiled, his teeth yellowed.

“For the moment. There was a Forest here once, but the Cutclaws tore it down and set us Wolves a-running.”

“Oh yes? Of course they did.”

“Do you run fast, young stranger?” The man seemed to shift, fur growing grey and bristly through his beard and hair as it slowly crawled across his face. His eyes seemed to burn, his teeth elongate into fangs.

“I’ve seen better wolf masks in third-rate horror films!” Turlough bit out. Truthfully he hadn’t but he’d heard Tegan complain about them often enough to get a good idea of what they looked like. The nose blackened, turned more snout-like, as the creature snarled again. 

“Once we have a scent, we never lose it,” he commented. It sounded almost casual, if not for the feral way he was regarding Turlough as he said it. He leaned forward slightly, breath hot and rancid. “Don’t stray too far from the path, because I’ll be waiting.” 

At that, the creature took off after the car that had passed through and Turlough let out a shivering breath. 

“Doctor,” he murmured shakily. “Where the Hell have you gone?” 

“Turlough, there you are!” The Doctor panted, right on cue, as he came jogging up. It made the Trionite wonder just what he’d been doing to become so winded. Or, more accurately, how far he’d run in such a short amount of time. “That hover-limo, they parted like the Red Sea to let it through!” 

“I... don’t really remember,” Turlough mumbled, scuffing the dusty ground with his foot. 

“Really? Interesting,” the Doctor murmured, eyeing his companion curiously. “Appears you couldn’t help yourself. Could have been some mass auto-suggestion I suppose, even a basic instinctive fear driving you back.” His brow furrowed as he shoved his hands into his pockets, leaning forward slightly. “You look cold.”

“Yes.” It was a short reply. 

“Well, you’ve dropped your jacket.”

“So I have.” After regarding him curiously for a few moments the Time Lord let his attention wander back to the problem at hand. 

“Couldn’t see who was in the car there,” he muttered, looking rather put out about it. He could tell that his companion wasn’t telling him something, but trying to get a straight answer out of Turlough when he got like that was like trying to pull teeth. It was downright miserable, and he had better ways to spend his time. “Windows were polarized. I wonder why it was pushing through the crowd when all the traffic lanes were 30 feet overhead.” He sighed, plastering an optimistic look on things. “Mind you, if it’s on the ground it’ll be easier to follow. And, Turlough, you do look very cold.”

“Something else came through,” the boy mumbled unhappily. “After you’d gone.”

“I didn’t see anything,” the Doctor replied honestly as he stooped to pick up his friend’s jacket and hand it to him. Turlough’s response was sluggish and it quickly became evident that he had been thoroughly unsettled. “Was it following the car?”

“It came right up to me,” Turlough breathed. “Kept growling, and it was _tall_. With a mask like a wolf, but... burning gold eyes, and I’m not so sure that was a mask after all, and...”

“Did you speak to it?”

“No.”

“Pity,” the Time Lord remarked, gaze narrowing slightly as he picked up on the immediate lie. He decided to let things be until he had more to go on to get to the truth of the matter with Turlough’s pest problem. “That car was heading for the old Don Pedro station.”

“Where we left the TARDIS?” 

“Nasty thoughts are like buses, Turlough.”

“...Huh?”

“You don’t get one for ages and then the whole army come along together.” The look he got for that comment suggested that Turlough had no idea what he was talking about, which was fair enough the Doctor supposed. “Come on.” 

~§§~

The woman over the intercom droned on and on as the train idled, and Ileana heaved a sigh of relief as one of her most trusted confidantes came into view. 

“Jorge,” she called. He turned, all dark red facial hair and snipped locks with dark brown eyes, and startled at her appearance. 

“Señora?” He asked. She nodded. “I was starting to worry.”

“Carnaval crowds delayed us Jorge, but they may help muddy our tracks,” she muttered crossly. The delay had cost precious time. “Where’s the train?”

“All prepared and programmed.” He eyed the others with Ileana coolly. “Inez, Herr Lichfuss. Are we all here?”

“Oh, don’t stand about we’ll attract attention,” Ileana chided irritably. “Keep my son out of sight.”

“He’s still sleeping,” Anton explained. “Jorge, help with the hover gurney.” Jorge growled at this, smelling Cutclaw on the other, unknown man.

“Is this the physician?” He asked. 

“Dr. Hayashi,” Ileana clarified. 

“And this is my assistant, Juro,” Hayashi introduced. 

“They’re coming with us,” Ileana broke in impatiently. “I told you this already.”

“This way, Señora,” Jorge directed, leading the way toward the train. He paused, making a show of looking around first. “Inez, where’s Canou Choudrey? I thought he’d meet us.”

“Mr. Choudrey is not coming,” Inez muttered. 

“You didn’t tell me that,” Anton remarked, annoyed and surprised. “Señora, has he finally slunk away tail between his legs?”

“It’s something I’ll explain to you later,” Ileana said, speaking slowly as if to a small child. 

“Not in front of the Cutclaws?” Anton whined. 

“Never say that again Lichfuss!” She growled, turning to him with fire. “Never! Any more whining and I’ll-“ they all glanced round as an odd scent filled the station. 

“What’s that?” Jorge murmured, breathing deeply. “Do you catch it?” 

“What is it?” Inez asked. 

“It’s... like nothing I’ve ever...” 

“Oh... ancient,” Ileana whispered almost reverently. “A scent like... stillness.”

“Like... coming snow,” Anton chirped, subdued. 

“No, like breaking ice on the rivers in spring,” Jorge countered. 

“The scent after the lightning, before the thunder,” Ileana decided. “Or fields after the rain, and the darkest forests. Under the fir trees...” 

“Almost... unearthly,” Anton summarized, eyes wide. They all shifted uncomfortably about, uncertain of what this signified. 

“Señora?” Hayashi broke the moment awkwardly, frowning at the strangeness in their still postures and alert, perplexed expressions. “Señora, we should move,” he said worriedly. 

“What?” Ileana shook her head as if to clear it, slightly irritable. “What is it, Hayashi?” 

“We are being watched!” He pressed, glad when the reality of the situation came down on the rest of his party. “The train, please!” 

“It’s all right Turlough, they’re moving again,” the Doctor called quietly. Turlough poked his head out from an information booth, worried expression evident on his face. 

“Thought they’d seen us for a minute,” he mumbled. “At least they’re nowhere near the TARDIS.”

“That’s true,” the Doctor agreed thoughtfully, making the rare habit of biting his lip gently in thought as he only did when something truly perplexed him. “Can you see them better now?”

“Sort of,” Turlough muttered, squinting and tilting his head from one side to the other. “Just... it’s hard to focus... I mean, my _brain _knows they’re there because you’ve told me, but you’ll have a job convincing my eyes.” 

“Well, they don’t want to be seen.” 

“I don’t want to see them either. Thought fur coats like that would’ve been outlawed ages ago!” 

“Now, why are they taking that gurney towards that monorail?” The Doctor speculated, intrigued. He leaned against the nearest column, one ankle crossed over the other, and tilted his head slightly as he shoved his hands into his pockets. 

“Didn’t you say only freight traveled by train these days?” Turlough asked, seeking confirmation. The Doctor nodded. 

“Or livestock.” He inhaled slightly, letting the rather confusing scents of the station wash over his sensitive pallet. Oddly enough, the people they were tailing didn’t come off as entirely human. Or maybe that was the interference of other, older smells over such a great distance. “Or maybe I was wrong.” He began walking toward the train, lips parted slightly to try and catch the scent more clearly, under the guise of an aimless amble. “If that’s a body they’re pushing then maybe I should pay my respects.” 

“Oh Doctor, come back!” Turlough hissed, unwilling to leave what little obscure shelter he’d found on a stroll out into the open. “Not through there!” An alarm started blaring and Turlough groaned. Typical. Absolutely typical. The voice dishing out the alarm was too femininely cheerful for the Trionite’s tastes.

_Alert. Alert you have breached Security Area Seven. Stay where you are. Have your passports and identity implants ready for inspection._

“Ah!” The Doctor exclaimed softly, pleased with himself as Turlough reluctantly rushed to join him. “So that’s it.”

“Doctor-“

“Look at the crest, on the side of the carriage.”

“We can’t stay here-“ 

“Familio de Santos. Just like royalty.” He grinned as he swung on his heel toward Turlough, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Fancy a trip on a royal train, Turlough?”

“Doctor, it’s not our business,” Turlough protested. “Maybe it’s it’s- a private funeral.”

“One that clears the streets by auto-suggestion?” The raise of a tawny eyebrow. “With something nasty, like a hungry wolf following the cortège?”

“It was just a mask,” the redhead snapped unhappily. “Part of the Carnaval.”

“No, you’re trying to delude yourself, which is exactly what they want,” the Doctor retorted. He was growing steadily more impatient with the denials he was receiving. He began moving toward one of the passenger cars. “Come on. We’ve a train to catch.” 

“Señora, come inside,” Inez pleaded. “The train is ready to leave.” And so was she. 

“That scent again, Inez,” Ileana murmured thoughtfully, nostrils flaring ever so delicately as she sought the source. Suddenly, she straightened as the man with the slightly shaggy blond hair and his unhappy-looking copper-headed companion approached the carriage. “There he is!” 

“Hello?” The Doctor called. 

“Señora, the doors!” Inez said tersely, shifting impatiently from foot to foot as the beeping of the automatics intensified. “Quickly!” 

“How... strange,” Ileana murmured as she watched the man through the side.

“Come away from the window Señora, we must attend your son.” When this got no response she sharpened her tone. “Señora.”

“What’s she staring at, Doctor?” Turlough asked curiously. 

“Me,” the Time Lord replied promptly, making sure not to take his gaze off the mystery woman in the train car. “I think.” He raised his voice. “Please, I must speak to you! Look, I am the Doctor, and this is-“

“Too late,” Turlough sighed as the wheels squeaked, metal on metal, and the train began to chug its way out of the station. The Doctor let out an exasperated sigh. 

“But I have to speak to her.” So focused was he on the train that he didn’t notice the machine security approaching, so Turlough knocked him gently on the arm to get his attention. 

“Here comes trouble.” 

_Your passports, Señors, _it chimed sweetly. 

“This train, where is it going?” The Doctor asked, ignoring the polite ultimatum. 

_You are in a restricted area, _the bot replied in that same monotone feminine positivity. _If you have no passport, please display your state identity grafts now. _

“I want to know about that _train.” _

_Under Amazonian state law, it is an offense not to display your ID implant within the city boundaries._

“Not listening,” Turlough muttered, eyeing his designated driver with long-suffering exasperation. 

_Please display your genome ID grafts, Señors. Failure to do so may result in a fine, or imprisonment. _

“_Hello!?_” The Doctor scoffed irritably. “Do your limited responses include a timetable, or is that train a specially charted service??” 

_If you have a personal credit reading code, recognized by any international bank, please display now. _

“I think it wants a bribe,” Turlough suggested, looking at the machine with distaste. 

“Well it’s out of luck,” the Doctor growled, irritated as he glared at the machine. He let out a slight exclamation of pain as a manacle-like appendage extended from the bot to grab him. “Ow! That’s my arm you’re twisting off!” 

_A credit reading of nil is also an offense within the state and city boundaries. _

“Hold still,” Turlough sighed, walking over. “If I can prise that open...” 

“Overgrown shopping trolley!” The Doctor spat rudely, squirming against his captor. Turlough rolled his eyes as he grabbed the arm and began trying to force open the manacle.

_Under Amazonian state law, assaulting an inspecting officer is a punishable offense. _

“Oh, shut up will you!”

“Ow!” Turlough yelped as a second arm extended and grabbed him. “Get off me!” 

_Fines for not displaying an ID may not be less than 5,000 credits, _the robot intoned sweetly, ignoring their obvious worsening irritability. _And a prison term of no less than six months. Please accompany me to the registrar office immediately. _

“I- I can’t get free!” Turlough exclaimed, struggling as an overhead announcement broadcast something neither of them particularly cared about. 

...Except that they cared two seconds later when a large, dark streak of grey launched itself at the robot holding them with a feral growl and smashed it to pieces. The act sent the two of them sprawling on the platform and staring after the creature incredulously. 

“There it goes!” The Doctor breathed, pointing as it took off on all fours following the tracks (and thus the train). 

“My arm!” Turlough complained. “What was that? I didn’t see; it was so fast!”

“He was a Wolf.” 

“...A wolf?”

“Yes, a massive grey animal, bounding after the monorail,” the Time Lord explained as he scurried to his feet. 

“Doctor, we can’t stay here,” the redhead pointed out as he accepted a proffered hand to help him up. 

“No, we have to warn them,” the Doctor decided, staring after the departing creature with wide blue eyes. He began running. “Back to the TARDIS! Quickly! There’s more than one way to catch a train...” 

~§§~

“Your son is growing weaker Señora,” Hayashi said gently. The train rocked back and forth as it sped down the tracks, but Ileana didn’t seem to notice. 

“And by that I assume you mean his dark side is growing stronger?” She asked, the question not really expecting an answer. 

“...Until we reach our destination, wherever that is, I must increase the dosage of inhibitor drugs,” the little man replied awkwardly. “If only for our own safety.”

“I want a _cure, _Hayashi, not a delay.” 

“And I say that’s impossible, until I have proper medical facilities. To treat your son was my _own _calculated risk, but now? Both my assistant and I are endangered by circumstances beyond our control!” Hayashi argued, bristling at the imperious tone. 

“There is no danger,” Ileana scoffed. “Just concentrate on a cure for my son!” 

“No danger, Ileana?” Anton repeated incredulously as he walked into the small cabin room. Victor stuffed but did not wake. “Then who was that stranger at the station?” 

“This is my private carriage, Herr Lichfuss!” Ileana exclaimed, quietly outraged at the intrusion as she swiftly came to her feet. Hayashi read the room and smartly retreated to a corner to watch as more of the entourage appeared in the doorway. “What do you all want?”

“We’re all concerned Señora,” Inez said quietly, growling as Jorge pushed past her.

“Who was that at the station?” He asked. “Was it _him?_” Ileana sighed, almost like an aborted laugh.

“You think _that _was the Grey One, Jorge?” She snickered. “Did he _look _grey?”

“Then who was it?” Anton snapped impatiently. Ileana rolled her eyes at his possessive tendencies.

“Perhaps you have a _rival, _Mein Herr,” she retorted suggestively, sarcastically. “He was a stranger, that’s all. I’ve never seen him before.”

“But if he saw us, Señora...” Jorge trailed off, the meaning plain.

“If he is a rival, Ileana, I’ll lay his skin at your feet,” Anton growled. 

“Such gallantry,” Ileana muttered, wrinkling her nose and conveying as much condescension toward the others in the room as was physically possible in the action as she turned her back on them and straightened the bedsheets.

“We’ll turn the train round for you now,” Jorge all but laughed, smirking. 

“Be quiet!“ Ileana snapped. “All of you.” She addressed the man waiting in the corner. “Doctor Hayashi, please forgive us. You are our guest.” 

“But I’m eager to learn your ways, Señora,” the man replied smoothly. 

“One stranger after another,” Anton sighed. 

“The stranger at the station means _nothing_, get that into your idiotic head! He was just an inquisitive Cutclaw.” 

“He didn’t _smell _like nothing,” came the mutinous reply. 

“Oh, why is everyone always so _young!?_” Ileana growled in frustration, tugging slightly at her hair as she rounded on her subordinates. “You’re always _questioning _me. Always _snapping _at my heels. If you don’t _believe _the danger we left, then I’ll _show _you. Maybe that‘ll put a stop to your whining!” 

~§§~

The time rotor chugged dutifully up and down as the Doctor finished programming in coordinates. He didn’t bother to look up as Turlough entered the room.

“How’s your shoulder?”

“It hurts,” the redhead replied curtly but honestly. “How about yours?” The Doctor shrugged, rolling his shoulders, then returned his attentions to the console.

“Still workable. Next time I’ll buy a platform ticket,” he quipped. 

“...At the risk of sounding human...” Turlough began hesitantly. The Doctor swung on his heels and leaned against the edge of the console, giving his companion his full focus.

“A question about what happened, yes?” The Trionite nodded. 

“The Wolf you saw.”

“Wolf... like.” 

“But with golden eyes?”

“Difficult to say,” the Time Lord evaded. “It all happened so fast. And it _wasn’t _standing on its hind legs.” The pair exchanged a knowing look.

“Mine was.”

“I thought it might have been.” He flicked a switch and the wheezing of dematerialization filled the room. Turlough groaned. 

“Oh, no. You’re not going after it? What about the Carnaval?”

“Those people are in _danger_, Turlough,” the Doctor retorted, fixing him with a stern stare as determination settled onto his features like a dark cloud. “And if I can’t catch that train, I can always go ahead and meet it.”

~§§~

“Put the box down here, Inez,” Ileana instructed tiredly. Inez was gave her a worried look but did as asked, leaving the item in the middle of the table in one of the more spacious carriages. “Then they can see why we all had to leave.” Ileana opened the box, pulling out the object she had received earlier that morning with a grimace. “This gift was delivered to my apartment this morning.”

“There’s blood on it,” Jorge gasped, more confused than shocked. 

“Your physician is still here,” Anton grumbled unhappily. 

“Forgive me, Señora,” Hayashi said apologetically as he moved toward the exit. “I am intruding.”

“No, stay here,” Ileana sighed. 

“But I must attend to your son!”

“Excellent idea!” Anton agreed. He cowered slightly as Ileana flashed him a view of her teeth, making her displeasure with his attitude known. 

“And I want you to stay,” Ileana countered. “We don’t have secrets from you. How could we, whatever Herr Lichfuss thinks.”

“It’s no secret what _I _think.”

“No? You should try applying some brainpower to it next time.” 

“It _is _blood,” Jorge murmured, approaching the item slowly and sniffing it as the other two bickered. “A day old at least. But... can’t place the smell...”

“Let me see?” Anton suggested. He frowned as he pulled the small greeting out. “There’s a card.”

“The Grey One sends gifts as well,” Ileana explained primly, smirking at her annoying would-be suitor’s displeasure at the pronouncement. “Open it, Anton.” 

“Thank you, for reading this paper-free card!” The automated voice said in its usual cheerful male tone. “No trees were harmed in the making of this product! Your greeting reads-“

“A gift to the Merchant’s Daughter,” the dark silken voice rumbled. “How many fat moons since I pulled you from the snow?” 

“Is that him?” Anton asked unnecessarily, the apprehension in his voice confirmation enough. 

“Who else?” Ileana sighed. “It’s why we left Rio. Open the box.” Anton frowned but did as asked, withdrawing quickly in revulsion as the severed head was revealed to him. 

“Ugh... Canou Choudrey,” he exclaimed, stunned. “His... head...”

“And when the moon is full again, I will wrap you in it’s silver sheen,” the Grey One’s voice practically purred through the card. “And blood will feed the forest.”

“What does he mean?” Lichfuss asked, both suspicious and worried at once.

“This is why I took you away fro. Rio,” Ileana explained, wrapping her arms about herself and studying the floor of the carriage rather than meet anyone’s eyes. “Why I’ve called a Council.” 

“You... called the others?” Jorge remarked, surprised.

“As many as would listen.”

“No one’s done that, not ever,” Anton snapped unhappily. A stickler for tradition, there was no greater contender. 

“There’s never been a threat like this before,” de Santos argued. Hayashi stepped forward, intrigued as much as he was repulsed. The scientist in him would not deny being satiated. 

“Señora... the head. May I see it?” He asked. Instantly, Anton rounded on him with flashing eyes and bared teeth that were beginning to look suspiciously like the start of fangs.

“Don’t touch!” He barked. 

“Oh let him see.” Ileana waved Hayashi forward with a tired movement and the physician handled the package carefully, brow furrowed in concentration as he studied. 

“Very ferocious,” he remarked, eyeing the jagged lines of severance of the neck. “You were wise to leave Rio when you did.” 

“Why, before we _all _have our heads torn off?” Anton scoffed. He wilted slightly at the serious and reproachful expression on the Cutclaw’s face.

“No, not _torn,_” he explained, pivoting the head to show the wound at a better angle. “There’s a lot of blood clogged in his fur, but the actual severance is... comparatively clean. You’d need very powerful jaws to take the head off- like, like that. Just one bite, I think.” 

“Monster!” Anton growled, moving toward Hayashi as he appeared to be fighting the change. Hayashi cowered back against the corner as Inez darted between the two with a soft snarl and Jorge just looked like he was about to be sick. 

“Stop it, Lichfuss!” Ileana ordered. The man froze, chest heaving as he fought to regain composure. They all turned at the sound of the telephone chirping and Jorge started shakily toward it. “Don’t answer that.”

“But it could be others,” Jorge protested weakly. “Calling for us-“

“No. Look at the screen, that caller ID.” Fear crept into her voice and made the others’ concern heighten. Despite her at times rash or impulsive ways, Ileana was always calm and collected in the face of adversity. “Don’t touch it.” Her voice peetered to a whisper, a beg. “Don’t touch it.”

~§§~

The Doctor smiled as they materialized, rather pleased with himself as he made his circuit about the console. 

“Now, at an average speed of 102.35kp/h, it should reach these coordinates in about four and a quarter minutes.” He frowned slightly. “Or so.”

“Doctor,” Turlough started, looking rightfully alarmed (in his opinion, if they were where he thought they were). “Where are we?” 

“Just hover here for a while,” the Time Lord muttered to himself, flicking a switch. 

“Oh, don’t answer then!” The redhead scoffed, rolling his eyes. He was subsequently ignored.

“Coordinates 51° West by 62° South, the northern end of the Manteca Tunnel... otherwise known as the lower regions of the Amazon Desert!” The Doctor grimaced as he looked through the viewscreen, placing a hand in his pocket while the other one fiddled with a dial. The TARDIS chirped indignantly at him but did nothing to sabotage his plans, seeming more resigned than anything else. “And from the look of it, a pretty dismal and dusty place it is to...” 

“And have you got the year right?” Turlough snapped peevishly. The Doctor shot him a glare.

“No need to be sarcastic,” he retorted testily. 

“But we’re on the monorail track!”

“Three inches above it, to be precise, as I said we’re in _hover mode_. I just hope it’s the northbound track.”

“I don’t believe this, you’re _waiting _for that train!?” 

“Exactly! And allowing for any _leaves _on the line, which is doubtful in this ecologically _catastrophic _day and age, any time now.” The Doctor began dashing about the console again, a sputtering Turlough trailing incredulously on his heels. “Hope we’re not too late.”

“You’re crazy.” It was delivered flatly, as a fact rather than an observation. “You’ve put us right in it’s path!”

“Yes I told you, I _am_ getting rather better at these precision maneuvers.”

“There are lights,” Turlough pointed out on a slight whimper. He could see his own demise, he just knew it. He was just standing there waiting for it like an absolute madman.

“Good!” The Doctor chirped in response, hands on the precise controls he needed to execute the move he wanted to make. “Now, when the train comes through I simply move forward ten seconds in time-“

“It’s coming, Doctor, it’s- the train-“

“-but not in _space!_” He flicked the switch, wheezing now thundering against the blare of the locomotive’s horn and shriek of metal wheels on metal tracks. Turlough only added to the pandemonium by shouting angrily at the top of his lungs.

** _“DOCTOOOOORRR!!!”_**

_Part 1 of 4_


	2. Loups-Garoux II

_“Hey, Mum. I must’ve walked miles today. Always moving. I heard the Wolves howling, gathering. They’re coming together, probably to talk about what to do about the Grey One. I... I know I’m not like them, yeah, but it still hurts that they didn’t even consider... s’just me out here, on my own. Been on my own for a while now. Sometimes I feel like loneliness is all I know, but then I listen to the messages you left me and remember I’m never truly alone, because the people who love you, and who you love in return? You take a piece of them with you wherever you go. _

_“Anyway, two nights until the full moon. It doesn’t do anything to me, but it makes the others a bit more feral I think. More aggressive, in tune with their Wolf side than usual. I’m trying to decide whether I should join them even though I didn’t get an invitation. Just wanna belong somewhere, y’know? Even if I wander so far from home I forget where I’m supposed to be, I wanna belong. So maybe I will go.”_

Rose cut her message short as a wolf howled across the desert and growled softly under her breath. 

~§§~

In short, they hadn’t died when they’d been hit by the train. Turlough opened the door cautiously, sticking his head out this way and that, before stepping out entirely. He surveyed the quiet train car they’d materialized in and frowned as the Doctor came out behind him, locking up after. 

“Yes Doctor, you’re definitely getting better at these short jumps,” Turlough quipped sarcastically. The Time Lord beamed at him and nodded, choosing to take it as a compliment rather than the intended slight.

“Yes, as leapfrog maneuvers go, that was rather nifty,” he replied happily. “Even if I do say so myself.”

“Hardly any damage to the TARDIS at all.”

“Thank you!” The smile faded to be replaced by a thoughtful curiosity. “Ah. Baggage.”

“Sorry?” Turlough murmured, the hostility fading somewhat.

“It’s a baggage car Turlough,” the Doctor explained as he shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. “Albeit an empty one.” 

“Very impressive.” The look Turlough got could have mixed a roux sauce in under 0.2 seconds; it was just the right amount of cutting exasperation and simmering annoyance. He cleared his throat and took in their surroundings, hearing nothing but the wind whooshing by outside the car. “Quiet, isn’t it?” 

“I just hope we’re not too late.” 

~§§~

In a different part of the train, an altogether separate conversation was taking place. Hayashi and his assistant had temporarily placed themselves outside between two cars as they moved from one to the other, and the doctor found he had to raise his voice to be heard over the wind.

“Turo, I’ve got to go ahead to keep the brute dosed up until we-“ he stopped and looked around, suddenly concerned. “Turo? Where are you now? What’s happened, you idiot?” 

Hayashi moved swiftly into the next room, his gaze settling on the vacant bed as he inhaled sharply. 

“Torn the restraints apart- where’s Victor?” That was when he heard something metal hit metal and turned, blanching as a huge, snarling wolf slowly advanced toward him out of the corner. “No... Oh, no! No, no, no- agh!”

Fangs sunk deep into his arm as they went crashing about the cabin knocking over all of Hayashi’s tools. 

“It’s all coming together, Inez,“ Ileana sighed tiredly, pinching the bridge of her nose. The younger woman was watching her with concern. “Finally spoken to Tino.”

“He took his time, Señora.”

“There’s a lot to prepare at the ranch, Inez. He says the others are already arriving.”

“What, so soon?” The girl whined unhappily. Ileana nodded, sitting forward to grasp the girl’s hands in hers.

“Don’t look so despondent. This is extraordinary. Some of them are legends.” She opened her mouth to start naming a few when Inez stopped her.

“What about the Star Wolf?” She asked warily. Ileana’s nostrils flared at the question.

“No. It’s dangerous enough with those that spawned the legends of the big bad wolf and tales of the Cherokee. But never the Star Wolf.” Inez tilted her head slightly, confused.

“Well, why not?”

“She’s not of our kind, Inez. Oh, she may wear the pelt as we do and howl at the moon, but she is not like us.”

“But nor is she a Cutclaw. Surely the enemy of-“

_“No, Inez! _I cannot take the chance!”

“Chance of what, Señora??”

“I... I do not know,” Ileana muttered, slumping in her seat and rubbing tiredly at her face as she stared out the window. “And right now the unknown is a risk we cannot afford.” 

They both looked up as Anton came in dragging a struggling, bleeding Hayashi after him.

“Let go of me!” The portly man protested. 

“Be silent _Cutclaw,_” Lichfuss growled in response. 

“Señora!” Hayashi exclaimed, somehow managing to break free of his captor’s grip to come over in a disorganized mess. “I must see you!”

“What’s-“

“He’s dead! Señora!” 

“Who’s dead?” Ileana asked sharply as Anton grabbed Hayashi by the collar of his jacket. The man kicked at the air, furious.

“Put. Me. _Down!_”

_“Lichfuss! _Put him down, Lichfuss!” Anton rolled his eyes before doing so in a rough, unceremonious manner. Hayashi went crashing to the floor and was left to scramble to his feet and dust himself off. “Now, what do you want. Who’s dead?”

“Your son is missing,” Lichfuss snapped. Her eyes widened in shock. 

“Victor!”

“He’s broken his restraints, and Turo has vanished!” Hayashi explained.

“His assistant,” Anton added unnecessarily. 

“There’s blood everywhere!”

“Victor would never do that!” Ileana gasped, outraged at the suggestion without actually discounting the possibility. When wolves shifted completely for the first time they were always hungry for fresh, hot blood - preferably acquired through a hunt. 

“Oh, well he’s a monster isn’t he?” Hayashi retorted in a rising voice quickly approaching a shout, face scarlet with anger as he stood his ground. He was too infuriated to be mindful of his tongue at present. Turo had been a faithful assistant and friend, and now he was most likely digesting in some creature’s stomach. “It’s in his nature! He has devoured my assistant!” 

“If only he had,” Anton cackled nastily. 

“What has happened to my son!?” Ileana barked, ignoring them both. Inez suddenly gasped, nostrils flaring.

“Wait, do you catch it? There!”

“That scent again,” Ileana muttered as Anton growled softly under his breath. “The one we caught at the station.”

“What _is _that?” Lichfuss snarled. He didn’t like the smell. It was... well, in short - though this probably didn’t bother any of the females or even a Beta like Jorge - that of a male more dominant than himself. It was threatening. 

“It smells like-“ Inez raised an eyebrow before turning to the others. “...Celery!?” 

“And what’s that other-“

“That other scent- no, no, not that!” Ileana cried, an equal mixture of anguished and terrified. “It’s the Grey One! He’s on board the train, he’s killed your assistant and now he’s stolen my son!”

~§§~

“First train I’ve ever been on that had no passengers or crew,” Turlough remarked quietly as they moved from car to car. The Doctor nodded, his attention straying to the soft growling he’d heard coming from up ahead. 

“It would be after your time that the British realm was privatized,” he said softly.

“It got _worse!?_” Turlough retorted disbelievingly. The Doctor nodded again. They glanced to the side of the kitchen car as a knife fell onto the floor. “What was that?”

“With luck? Just a restless cheese and tomato roll,” the Time Lord replied flippantly. His curt, clipped tones belied the anxiety under the calm exterior. 

“Yeah, well if this is the food galley it’s not very sanitary is it?” The Trionite muttered as he curled his lip in distaste at his surroundings. 

“No, someone’s left the meat store open, how very careless-“ the Doctor’s eyes widened as he placed the scent of decay to a more specific species of flesh and swallowed as his stomach churned. Turlough, unaware of what lay beyond the partially-open freezer door, put his weight against the heavy obstacle to shove it further open. “No, Turlough. That- that’s not a very good idea.” 

“Why- oh, no...”

“Sorry, Turlough.” 

“His face,” Turlough breathed, hand coming up over his mouth as he resisted the urge to vomit. Firm pressure from the Doctor’s hand on his shoulder centered him, but it was little help. 

“It’s a bit of a shock,” the Time Lord conceded sympathetically. 

“I should be used to- I mean, I‘ve _seen _things, but- hung up there, with the- the-“

“I know.” 

“With the other meat-“ he closed his eyes against the sight, but the image of the corpse swinging from the ceiling hooks was burned onto the backs of his eyelids. 

“The ambient temperature in this room is about... 3° Celsius,” the Doctor murmured as he touched the man’s exposed arm and frowned. “He’s still warm. Recent death...”

“I could tell that by the blood thanks,” Turlough remarked drily, leaning weakly against the doorframe. “Would this be the body they were carrying at the station then?”

“Hard to tell...” the Doctor didn’t like this. Not one bit. His instincts were telling him that whatever had done the deed was on board the train with them, and that wasn’t exactly a pleasant thought. The lights flickered as the car hit a slight bump along the line and he swayed with the shudder through the floor, easily maintaining his balance as he performed a casual post-mortem.

“Asian origin, nasty jagged wounds. More like teeth marks.” 

“Doctor-“

“Probably caused by some sort of large carnivore-“

“Yes, _in the corner_, Doctor,” Turlough interrupted urgently. The Doctor straightened immediately, spine stiffening ramrod as he backpedaled a good few steps to stand next to his companion in the doorway. 

“Yes indeed, quite like that...”

“Don’t touch it,” Turlough muttered, a pleading though resigned beg in his tone. His hand came up to grasp at the Time Lord’s sleeve and he sighed as the older man pulled a away to satisfy his curiosity with a bit of investigation. 

“The severed head of a wolf- no, not quite a wolf, it’s bigger,” the Doctor muttered as he crouched back on his heels to get a good look at the decapitated object of their macabre interest. To the ginger’s relief he refrained from handling it. “Less Vulpine, more-“

“Man-like?” He glanced up at the Trionite and nodded, so the boy continued. “His eyes are blue. And what’s it doing in a box? Who’d gift wrap something like _that!?_” 

“Was this what you saw at the Carnivale?”

“Don’t know... what did _you _see at the station? Or maybe we’re too late, and they’ve caught the killer already,” he suggested hopefully. The Doctor shook his head. 

“No,” he sighed standing up and shoving his hands into his trouser pockets. “No blood on its jaws. And it’s cold. Been dead a few days at least, I’d wager. And the neck.” He suddenly pointed at the severance. “Jagged. Whole head’s been bitten off.”

“By something _bigger!?_” Turlough squeaked. He frowned slightly as the Doctor fixated on something directly behind him, pupils blown wide and taking in a sharp breath. “What? What is it?”

“Don’t. Move. We’re not alone.” The Doctor then made a considerable effort to compose himself, plastering on a genuine-looking smile and striding quickly back into the main part of the car, putting himself squarely between the newcomer and Turlough. Turlough, for his part, was more than happy to cower behind him after the shock he’d just been given. 

“How do you do?” The Time Lord asked brightly. “I’m the Doctor.” 

“I don’t see anyone,” Turlough muttered, poking his head out and then coming- well trying, the Doctor wasn’t budging- to stand beside his friend. 

“This is Turlough.”

“Another doctor, Jorge,” a male voice said suddenly out of shadows. Turlough flinched back, still seeing nothing, and peered around the Doctor’s shoulder. 

“Two lambs who strayed from the flock, Herr Lichfuss,” a second male voice chuckled amusedly. 

“Yes, but this is not the way back to the sheepfold,” Lichfuss retorted slyly. The Doctor sighed, impatience with the situation quickly getting the better of him.

“Excuse me-“

“What are you doing!?” Turlough hissed as the man moved forward, necessitating that he had to edge up behind him.

“Being _polite_,” the Time Lord muttered back under his breath. “Can you really not see them?”

“No.” 

“Just... stay still. Don’t move.” The two strangers were now moving confidently through the car and the Doctor tensed as the one named Jorge began sniffing the air in a decidedly canine manner. 

“Hm. Celery,” he commented mildly with a smirk. “Inez was right. I thought she was having us on. But it’s all mixed up with some sort- no, several sorts- of musk. Like nothing I’ve ever caught before.” The terrier head-tilt he did as he puzzled it through would have been something the Doctor might have found amusing if his suspicions as to what they were hadn’t been so thoroughly supported by evidence. “Reminds me of places I’ve never heard of.”

Lichfuss stepped closer to them then Jorge had, sniffing as well. 

“He’s no Grey One,” he finally said dismissively.

“Please take your hand off my coat,” the Doctor asked uneasily. Lichfuss flashed a toothy, nasty smirk and bunched the fabric roughly, nails digging into the upper arm. “Ow! No need to be vicious!” 

“He’s no Cutclaw either,” Jorge pointed out, more curious than anything else that would require more effort. “And neither is the other one.” 

“I can’t _see _anyone!” Turlough protested miserably and the Doctor simply stared at him, incredulous, as Lichfuss slowly circled them close enough for Turlough to feel his breath.

“Neither of them??” He asked.

“_Neither!?_” Turlough yelped, a slow panic seeping into his person as he cast wildly about the seemingly empty carriage car. “How many of them are there!?” 

“This one smells of cooked meat,” Jorge commented, leaning forward to sniff at Turlough. “Horse? Possibly goat. But very old at any rate.”

“Yes, leave my friend alone please,” the Doctor requested shortly as he spun on his heel to look directly into his companion’s eyes. The car jolted again and he gripped the boy’s shoulder to steady him. “Turlough, they’re messing with your perception. Just- listen to _me_-“ 

“The young one’s more susceptible,” Lichfuss summarized boredly as he sat on the edge of a prep table and directed his question to Jorge, jostling the Doctor as he did so by the grip he still maintained on his arm. “What should we do with him? Drive him off the train?”

“I said _leave him alone!_” The Doctor snapped, abruptly rounding on the callous man with blue eyes flashing ancient fire. Lichfuss seemed to wilt under his glare, though Jorge just looked interested. “And _let go of me!_” Lichfuss growled deep in his throat in response, but Jorge just snorted at the noise. It was a front to ward off what was unsettling him rather than a show of dominance, and it did absolutely nothing for anyone other than to make the poor little Dachshund look more pathetic than usual. 

“What’s going on?” Turlough called, properly scared now as both Wolves growled. “Who’s there?”

“Leave him alone!” The Doctor ordered again as Lichfuss let go and pushed him roughly to the side. “Turlough, I’m here!”

“Go back!” Lichfuss snapped, shoving at him again so that the breath left his body when his back smacked into the wall. 

“Look at _me_, Turlough!”

“I can’t see you!” Turlough exclaimed pitifully, shuddering as Jorge brushed against his shoulder. He was being circled now by the pair of them. 

“I’m over here!”

“_Where!? _I can’t- it’s all, all foggy! I can’t see anyone!” 

“Just shut your eyes!“

“No, go this way!” Jorge laughed, nudging Turlough toward the side door of the train car. “Or that!” He added, knocking him gently toward a table. 

“No! No, go away!” 

The Doctor hissed out a breath as hot anger churned in his stomach at the whimsical way these creatures were making sport of his companion’s terror. 

“Close your eyes and reach straight in front of you, Turlough,” he called. He was properly pinned behind a table and the wall and no matter how hard he tried to get it to budge, Lichfuss kept shoving it back. “No!” He yelped. “Not that way!”

“Oh, yes that way,” Lichfuss growled gleefully. “Straight for the door.” He reached over and pressed the release, the door sliding open with a soft warning noise emanating throughout the cabin. Chill wind of great force rocketed through the tight space, sending food scraps flying and discarded lettuce leaves straight to the ceiling. One smacked the Time Lord in the face and he sputtered.

“Turlough, if you crouch down you can’t move,” he suggested, feeling powerless and hating himself for it. 

“But I need to get away!” The redhead protested. His flight response was in full gear, his muddled senses heightening his anxiety. Everyone in the cabin froze as a piercing wolf howl echoed over the landscape.

“It’s him!” Lichfuss gasped, rushing over to the opening and peering out. A few seconds later Jorge joined them, their plaything forgotten. The Doctor took the distraction to free himself from the table and rush over to Turlough, who gripped onto his arm painfully with white knuckles. “There he is!”

“Where?” Jorge asked, following the line of Lichfuss’ pointing finger but not spotting their pursuer. 

“There,” he insisted. “I saw him.” He glanced back at their unwanted guests and rolled his eyes, smacking the button to close the door as he stalked swiftly toward the junction that would lead to another car. “Leave these two.” 

“Turlough?” The Doctor called softly as the boy shook in his arms after Jorge had left as well. “Can you see me?”

“Yes,” he whimpered.

“Right, just go gently then.” 

“Think you were right about auto-suggestion,” Turlough murmured shakily as the Doctor lead him over to an upturned packing crate in the corner and lowered him down until he was able to sit on it. The Time Lord nodded as he crouched in front of him on his heels, looking him over for any signs of physical trauma. “Didn’t have a thought in my head that was mine... did I nearly jump off the train??” He asked, eyes wide. 

“Very nearly, yes,” the Doctor replied with a grimace. 

“Did you stop me?” 

“I- no no, Turlough, I couldn’t,” he muttered, shoulders slumping as his gaze fell to the floor. It wasn’t his fault about the table, about the creatures, but he still had the guilt. He should have done _something_. “They- they were putting the idea in your head. Fortunately, they found something more important to chase.”

“They’ll forget a fat sheep to go and chase a rat,” an exasperated female voice said as the junction slid open. The pair jumped at the unexpected visitor and she put her hands up in a placating gesture, noting how the boy relaxed slightly but the man did not despite the smile he gave her in response.

“Buena noches, Señora,” he said brightly, posture poised to spring. He was studying her, noting her youthful appearance and recognizing her as the handmaiden or whatever she was from earlier for the head of the group, that slightly more elder woman with the regal bearing.

“Good evening Señor,” she returned politely. “When their blood’s up a common flea could outthink them.” 

“Yes, well making people jump seems to be a habit around here,” the Doctor retorted pointedly as he stood and brushed his trousers off. He was standing between her and his companion. “I’m the Doctor. This... this is Turlough.”

“Are you hurt?” The woman asked, choosing to ignore the comment on her entrance. 

“How considerate. Turlough, are you hurt?” It was more mocking than anything else; he was too upset by their treatment to remember his manners at present. 

“No,” Turlough murmured sullenly. “Just scarred mentally, nothing that’ll show.” 

“Señor, my mistress wants to speak with you,” the girl explained. 

“Indeed?“ The Doctor made no attempt to move. “No doubt she’s traveling first class, with none of the annoying disadvantages the lesser passengers in steerage have to suffer.”

“She’s waiting,” the girl stressed impatiently though in an even tone. 

“Oh very well,” the Doctor sighed. “Lead the way then.” He gently gripped Turlough’s arm and guided him into a standing position. “Come on, Turlough. Anywhere has to be better than here, hmm?”

“If you say so,” Turlough muttered miserably. 

~§§~

“Not a whiff of the Grey One Jorge,” Anton muttered sullenly as they prowled the length of the train. “Not a spore nor a fumet.” 

“Even he couldn’t get far,” Jorge argued. “Not if he’s just eaten.”

“That was _Victor _that we saw, not the Grey One.” 

“Really? Well your eyes are sharper than mine, Lichfuss.”

“Yes, and I’ll warrant it was him that chewed up Hayashi’s assistant.” 

“Poor little Victor,” Jorge sighed as he glanced out a window at the desert about them. “No change then, stuck like that? He was a playful chap when he was a whelp.” Anton chuckled softly in agreement. “Had the run of the pampas. Used to love to fetch a ball.”

“Before he got a taste for gaucho.”

“Oh, his mother’s too strict with him. It’s no good trying to stifle his natural instincts. That’s what’s led to all this trouble in the first place.” 

“She has her instincts too,” Anton muttered bitterly. “Why else do you think the Grey One’s come?” Jorge perked up slightly, interested, and leaned against the nearest wall with his arms crossed in clear invitation to continue.

“For Victor, I assumed,” he said confusedly. That’s what she said.” Anton laughed. 

“No, he’s come for _her._ Not Victor. We all heard his call across the city, and we saw what happened to Canou Choudrey.” 

“The Grey One... a dark name,” Jorge murmured. They began moving again, keeping a watchful eye on the outside surroundings. “The legends say he’s cunning.”

“The first and most powerful,” Anton agreed. “But would you know him if you smelt him?” 

“Mm?” It took a few moments, but his companion got his meaning. “The strangers? Celery and goat chop-“

“The ones we let go.”

“But suppose, just suppose, one of them was the Grey One. In the stories, he’s the master of shapes and illusion.”

“Mm... that’s very cunning indeed, making us _think _he could throw us off the train. But if he’s come for Ileana...”

“You’d better hurry, Mein Herr, before you lose your favors,” Jorge snickered. Anton growled at him. 

~§§~

“This way, Señors,” Inez said as she led their guests to her mistress. The Doctor hadn’t been able to get much out of her other than her name or the name of her employer, but at this point he was willing to take what he could get. 

“Extraordinary,” Ileana breathed as he and Turlough entered a drawing room carriage. She had looked up from a set of papers and now simply sat, staring at them with wide eyes, making no move to get up.

“How do you do, Señora?” The Doctor asked politely, bowing slightly in introduction seeing as her hand was unavailable to shake. “I do apologize for intruding on your privacy. I’m uh, I’m the Doctor, and this is-“

“Doctor?” A pudgy, middle-aged man repeated sharply from where he sat in a corner of the room nursing a heavily-bandaged arm. The Time Lord frowned at him before returning his attention to his hostess.

“And this is Turlough,” he finished, nodding slightly toward the boy who had inched up close behind him and was looking around the room with quite-honestly well-deserved suspicion. 

“Please, come in both of you,” Ileana offered. She pointed to a padded bench across the car from her but not too far away to limit conversation. They sat, Turlough as close to the door as possible without straying too far from the Doctor, and the man who had interrupted him earlier leaned forward with a skeptical expression.

“What sort of... doctor?” He asked. 

“Peripatetic,” the Doctor replied lightly. “I travel a lot.” A small grin. “Permanently on call, you might say. Now, what about you Mr...?”

“_Dr. _Matsuo Hayashi,” he corrected irritably. “Consultant therianthropic practitioner. From the institute of genomic surgery, Kamiko University.”

“Fascinating. And was this your equipment?” The Doctor asked, nodding to a heap of wires and twisted metal sitting in the corner. “Someone’s made quite a mess of it.” 

“Doctor, I am Ileana de Santos,” Ileana cut in impatiently. “My late husband was owner of the Santos cattle empire.”

“Really? I think Turlough here may be familiar with some of your produce.”

“The dogs couldn’t get enough of it,” Turlough muttered sullenly, making it clear he wasn’t all that keen on joining the conversation. 

“And this is _your _private monorail?” The Doctor pressed, trying his best to come off as curious rather than interrogative. To his internal delight he seemed to be succeeding. “Where exactly is it heading?”

“_How _did you get on board?” Hayashi countered. He disliked this newcomer. Two doctors, one patient? His professional reputation could be at stake.

“Under my own steam,” the Time Lord retorted without even sparing a glance for the other man.

“We saw you at the station, Doctor,” Ileana said as she smothered a smirk. “Please explain why you are here.” 

“We came to warn you, though from the state of your surgery I fear I may be overdue,” the Doctor answered, sobering immediately. 

“What exactly did you want to warn us about?” Ileana asked, taking a sip from her glass of wine. 

“I believe that there’s a dangerous creature on board,” he said simply. 

“Only one?” Turlough muttered, raising an eyebrow. Ileana took a few moments to swallow before setting her glass down and leaning back slightly in her seat.

“Forgive us, Doctor, but you find us in a state of some alarm,” she began, picking her words carefully. “My son, who is... an invalid, has disappeared. And I... fear he has been abducted.”

“Ah... then Señora, I fear I may be the bringer of bad news. Turlough and I found a body in the galley, three carriages back. ...In the fridge.”

“A body?” Ileana gasped, voice wavering as she stared at the genuinely regretful expression of the newcomer. 

“Yes, a young Asian man with black hair and a white lab coat-“

“Turo!” Hayashi exclaimed, springing to his feet even as his employer sank in her chair in boneless relief. 

“Oh, thank God...”

“I told the little idiot to be careful!” Hayashi continued, pacing the somewhat cramped space and ignoring the muttered praise. “Now what am I going to tell the faculty?” 

“Then I assume this wasn’t your son?” The Doctor asked, frowning at the general callousness everyone was displaying upon being told someone’s life had ended. 

“No, not Victor,” Ileana confirmed quietly.

“He was badly savaged,” Turlough offered, frowning as well. 

“Turo is- was, my assistant,” Hayashi explained unconcernedly. “Regrettably, a very careless one.” 

“Doctor, what about the wolf head?” Turlough whispered, leaning toward the Doctor’s ear.

“Never mind that now,” he muttered back before raising his voice. “Perhaps we should verify his identity; I think you’d better come and see for yourself.”

“No no, I’ll take your word for it,” the scientist deflected quickly. 

“This is appalling,” the Señora tutted. “That young man was caring for my son. I have to assume he was attacked the same time Victor was abducted.”

“We were attacked,” Turlough chipped in. Now that the shock was subsiding he had a bone to pick about the hospitality he’d been subjected to since coming on board. 

“_You _were attacked?” Ileana said sharply, ignoring Turlough entirely in favor of looking to the Doctor for answers. “You saw him?”

“Not exact-“

“No, but I saw _something_,” the Doctor replied. “Burst in on us, drew the others off.”

“Yes?“

“A large animal, but walking upright like a man. At a rough guess, I’d call him a therianthropic metamorph.” He flashed an innocent smile that had no genuine feeling behind it. “But then again, lycanthropy comes in so many shapes and sizes doesn’t it... Weresharks, Wereparts, Werewolves...” he then raised an eyebrow when he knew he’d got their full undivided attention. “What did you say your son was suffering from?” 

The following silence grew progressively uncomfortable and Turlough, deciding he rather liked this woman being hospitable rather than hostile, decided to smooth things over with a timely interruption.

“And at the station,” he said quickly with a cough. “We saw it at the station too. That shape, running after the train. Like a wolf.”

“What did you see?” Ileana questioned urgently, her attention still annoyingly focused on the Doctor. “Was it... grey?”

“Yes,” the Time Lord replied carefully, scrutinizing her reaction to his response and noting the intake of breath, the dilation of the pupils, the sudden flood of fear chemicals emanating from her body. “Grey, and very large. Almost _unfeasibly _large, actually. That’s why we came. Although the wolf we saw on the train, the one that drew off your associates, I think that one was brown. And much smaller? More of a Prairie than a Timber Wolf.”

“Inez!” Ileana called urgently. The Doctor took her momentary distraction to walk over to the medical bed that had been shoved into the corner.

“Oh, definitely brown,” he verified, picking up a few strands of fur from the sheets. “Like the hairs in this bed here.” 

“Señora?” Inez asked as she entered at her mistress’ call.

“Find Lichfuss and Jorge,” Ileana ordered urgently. 

“Yes, Señora-“

“Wait, no. Find _Victor _first!” 

“Señora.” Inez bowed her head before abruptly backing out of the car. 

“Señora, I’d like to help-“ the Doctor began, standing and walking toward her. 

“Señora de Santos’ son is extremely ill,” Hayashi interrupted rudely. “He needs constant medical attention, which only _I _can provide-“

“With metal vices and a straight jacket?” The little man backed away at the glint of eternity that entered those sky blue eyes. “That’s a pretty _extreme _form of medication, don’t you think?” 

“Who are you?” Ileana asked, calming somewhat at the confident and concerned presence the Time Lord was giving off. “Why make us your business?” 

“I sensed danger,” the Doctor said simply. “That’s why I came to help. Of course, if you’d rather we could just stop the train and send for the policía.”

~§§~

“What did this Doctor say then?” Anton snapped impatiently. Inez shrugged. They were standing in a secluded alcove running over their options, passing idle gossip as well as genuine fact.

“Hey said he saw the Grey One, at the station.”

“And then?” 

“And then he said he wanted to warn the Señora about it.” 

“You said _he _was the Grey One, Lichfuss,” Jorge said almost accusingly. 

“_You _said he was cunning!” Anton snapped. “He’s _lying_, that’s all.”

“Suppose he _knows _we think he’s lying? He could be telling the truth, so we’d never know. Now that’s _really _cunning.”

“Males,” Inez muttered under her breath before growling at the pair of them. “Idiots! Has springtime stolen your wits? The Doctor _isn’t _the Grey One and the Señora knows it!” 

“And you know that it was _Victor _who did in Hayashi’s assistant?” Anton pressed. 

“Of course I do! But who’s going to _dare _tell the Señora that?”

“This _Doctor_, with a bit of luck. We all know why he’s sniffing around _her_.”

“That’s as clear as a frosty night,” Inez snickered. The two men frowned at her sadistic glee at their expense. “He _wants _her.”

“But he’s a Cutclaw!” Jorge protested. The girl rolled her eyes. 

“He wouldn’t be her first.” 

“What did she do?” Anton growled possessively. Inez smirked, then grimaced as he grabbed her jaw and dug his nails in. “Tell me. Tell me, Inez, or I’ll bite off your ears!” He yelped as she let her teeth sink into the meat of his hand and backed away with a glare as she laughed at him. “You little-“ 

“Oh, she’s _interested_, Mein Herr,” Inez needled with a light curtsy as Jorge laughed. “Oh, yes. She said this Doctor’s worth more than the whole Santos Empire.”

“She wouldn’t dare!”

“As for _Herr Lichfuss? _She says he could crawl back to the backwoods where he belongs and hunt for beetles!” Anton growled, rearing back with his bleeding hand, and struck her across the face. 

“That’ll teach you to listen at doors! Never insult your mistress again!” He snapped. She bared her canines at him and snarled softly as she massaged her cheek. 

“What about the Cutclaws?“ Jorge pressed insistently, bored with the needless posturing. If Anton was too stupid to see that Ileana despised him that was no one else’s business but his. 

“They’ll be dealt with,” Anton said darkly. “And maybe the Grey One’s just an old story to frighten puppies. There’s only one way to earn the Señora’s favors. I must restore her wandering son.”

~§§~

The sound of a ringing phone interrupted the tense silence of the car as Hayashi glared at the Doctor, Ileana eyed him over in a not so innocent way, and he pointedly ignored both of them in favor of wandering about the compartment taking his natural curiosity as far as it could go without being irreparably rude by going through personal documents. 

“Pieter Stubbe,” Ileana whispered in reverent terror. The Doctor glanced ‘round, not bothering to conceal his interest, and waited for her to answer it. “Oh, leave me alone, go away,” she begged. The phone continued to ring so she sighed and picked it up. While Hayashi had to lean in to try and even catch a few stray words the Doctor was able to listen in easily from the other side of the car and did so unapologetically. 

_“Ileana? Can you see me too? I missed my welcome, so I-_“ he let out out chilling laugh and she shuddered. _“I persuaded a Cutclaw to show me how to use this device.”_

“I have nothing to say to you,” Ileana snapped. 

_“Ah, what’s the matter? You look like a dog with a docked tail. Oh, I hardly knew you. The merchant’s daughter became quite the merchant’s wife, very tamed, domesticated, doting on your half-Cutclaw whelp!”_

“Leave my son alone. It was my choice! You never gave me a choice!”

_“But what about our times together? Remember the snowy forests and the mountains? Chasing sledges for sport?” _Pieter scoffed. _“That was an ocean away from this dust-choked, I’ll-gotten desert! In those days, you had eyes and ears for me alone. No one else. Even now, when you’re running, you can’t look away!”_

“You’ll never touch me again,” Ileana snarled softly before composing herself. “You won’t find me. I’m gone.”

_“I’m closer than you think. How many other suitors are _panting _around you now? One less at any rate! He whimpered like a beaten mongrel before I relieved him of his head!” _He laughed. He was laughing. The Doctor stifled a shiver and looked determinedly out the window. _“Tell your other admirers they’ll get the same. Still nothing to say? Eh. I hate to talk to someone I can’t smell. Keep running, Ileana. However fast you run, I’ll run faster.“_

The call cut out and Ileana heaved a sigh of relief. 

“Leave me alone,” she muttered sourly. “Monster.” 

An hour or so later, the sun was setting in a brilliant display of color. The Doctor was wandering the cars keeping his senses wide open for any sign of danger, and he had to admit that the peace and quiet were filling him with unease. It was almost a relief when Turlough came running up to him.

“Doctor! I saw something outside!” 

“Patience, Turlough,” he hissed. The redhead huffed impatiently but lowered his voice as they retreated to a more secluded area to speak.

“I saw something, in the window.” The Doctor sighed, glancing at the lengthening shadows and mostly indigo sky. Dark enough that the interior lights of the train reflected his own form back to him rather than show the exterior surroundings. 

“It’s a bit dark to see anything,” he said tiredly. “Just desert, the ghosts of dead trees...” 

Abruptly, he looked away before he had to look himself in the eye. That was a thought. When had he stopped being able to meet his own gaze? When had he come to dread the stories they held inside them? 

“In the moonlight,” Turlough pressed. “Something running along, through the scrub. Some sort of big animal- _very big_.”

“Well, there’s bound to be _some _wildlife still out there. Struggling to survive after the death of the forest.”

“How fast are we going?”

“Oh, about 200 miles an hour.”

“We can’t be.”

“Perhaps a little more,” the Doctor amended, analyzing the rock of the car and the vibrations on the track in the floor beneath his feet, the way his relation to the Earth’s crust altered itself. He shoved his hands into his pockets and breathed deeply, suddenly weary. When had he allowed himself to get so tired? “Why do you ask?”

“Because it was keeping pace with the train,” Turlough explained worriedly. “And then it veered off, it was going even faster!” He leaned in closer and lowered his voice even further. “Doctor, it was the grey wolf we saw at the station.” 

“Stay here!” The Doctor ordered, pushing his fatigue away for the time being as he quickly strode through the train cars.

“But where are you going??”

“To speak to our hostess!”

“Doctor, wait! Come back!” The door hissed closed and he whimpered slightly. “Don’t leave me here in the middle of a pack of Werewolves...” 

“Closer than he thinks,” Jorge snickered softly as he and Anton approached and stepped in front of him. He recoiled from the sound of their voices and cast wildly about for his tormentors, panic gripping him like a vise. 

“Look at those eyes,” Anton laughed. “He could see us if he wanted to.”

“An orphaned Cut if ever I smelt one.” 

“Who’s there?” Turlough called softly, backing toward the nearest corner that was farthest away from the exterior door. 

“He could see a lot of things if he just looked,” Anton commented with a snide grin as he leaned on the wall right next to Turlough. “Both outside and in.”

“What a waste if we didn’t show him his potential.”

“Where are you?” Turlough called again, voice wavering as his entire body shook with terror and adrenaline. “I know you’re here!” He yelped as Anton grabbed him at the nape of his neck, then covered his mouth with his remaining hand, and dragged him none too gently into the middle of the car. 

“See us now, young master?” He taunted. “Time we wake you up. We have to catch a wild dog you see, and you’re just the bait we need to help us.” 

~§§~

Ileana glanced away from the window she was staring unseeing out of from where she sat on her son’s medical bed. Her eyes were glassy, though she peeled up when she saw who was requesting an audience. 

“Ah, Doctor-“

“Señora, I want to stop the train,” he said urgently. 

“Impossible. Jorge has programmed the journey into the drive system.”

“There must be a fail safe way to stop it!” 

“Nothing can override the program until we reach our destination-“

“And then what?” He interrupted, standing in front of her and leaning forward and down somewhat in what appeared to be more of a customary habit than a sign of purposeful belittlement. “What happens to Turlough and me, hm?”

“I...” Ileana frowned slightly as she considered. It hadn’t occurred to her, not with her worry over Victor superseding everything else. “Haven’t decided.” The Doctor rolled his eyes before sighing and running his fingers through the hair at the back of his head, shoulders slumping. He seemed suddenly aged beyond his years and Ileana had very little problem seeing the ancient lifespan he usually kept hidden behind a screen of vitality in his soft blue eyes. 

“Forgive me,” he murmured. “You’re concerned about your son. In- in fact you seem beset by troubles.”

“Danger has always walked with me Doctor,” she said simply, patting the extra space on the bed. He nodded before accepting it, sitting cross-legged on its surface at the end in a respectful distance from her person and appearing to have no thoughts whatsoever in venturing closer. She was only a little put out by that; it was a pity, really. He had a maturity about him the others lacked yet carried himself with grace and confident. “It’s my oldest and most faithful companion.”

“But sometimes it comes and looks you in the face,” the Doctor quipped with a sad smile. It faded when he caught his reflection once again and he found himself studying his features, doing anything to avoid his own eyes. If he looked in those eyes, he would see than man who had let himself lose Adric. Lose Nyssa, and Tegan... the man who had left so many people, including his beloved granddaughter Susan, behind because in the end it was less painful for him if he left before they could say they wanted to leave.

“And... are you another danger?” Ileana asked quietly, getting the sense she was interrupting some rather unpleasant introspective thoughts. He inhaled sharply, gathering himself together to present the indifferent facade she had come to expect, and shrugged.

“Oh I couldn’t say, Señora. That’s up to you, though I must admit I do like to be surprising.”

“...I think I already know what I have to tell you.” He nodded. 

“That your son is a Wolf, I know.”

“And... that he takes after his mother?”

“I’ve never known a mother who wasn’t proud of her son,” he murmured, resolutely not thinking about the disappointment he put into the eyes of his own the last time he’d seen her. 

_“Proud!?_” Ileana rasped. “How can you think that? It’s the very curse of my long, _long _existence. Proud!? No, never.” 

“I remain to be convinced,” the Doctor said pointedly. “And what about your husband?”

“Federico... was a Cariocan. Rio was his city. For forty-two years, he cared for me.” Her voice tempered, soft and affectionate as she spoke of her late spouse. “Driving back the shadows from around me, but you see, I do not age as he did. Victor was the son he craved above all his wealth, his land, his empire...”

“He didn’t know about Victor’s condition?” The Doctor asked, raising an eyebrow. Ileana smiled. 

“Of course he did. But Federico... never questioned. Just accepted. He was plagued his whole life over the ruin that he set his business ranches and cattle brought to the great forest. But he never ceased to love us.” 

“And... Victor?”

“Like all children? He rebels. But now he has no human father, his wolf inheritance has taken hold.”

“And he cannot change back,” the Doctor summarized sympathetically, swallowing. 

“No,” Ileana whispered, voice breaking ever so softly. 

“I’d say he makes a handsome wolf,” he offered as meager recompense. 

“It waxes and wanes in all of us,” she explained. “But poor Victor has no light left. He’s all instinct. Like the dusk, the shadows of the past lengthen around us.”

“Like a hangman’s noose,” he muttered, rubbing at his neck unconsciously. “And what particular Grey shadow pursues you?” 

“The Grey One. Pieter Stubbe. Undying, and always hungry. I’ve been bound to him and his darkness for longer than you could ever imagine.”

“I think you’d be surprised.” The Doctor tilted his head slightly as he studied her. “Two hundred, three hundred years?”

“How could you possibly know that?” Ileana asked with a soft laugh of incredulity. 

“Time is my business- well, one of my businesses,” he explained vaguely. It was a deflection and they both knew it. “But please. I- I’m stopping your story.” 

If she hadn’t seen the age in his eyes in that single unguarded moment, Ileana might have believed the apparent youth with which he adjusted his sitting position to brace his elbows against his still-criss-crossed knees and the way he dropped his chin to be supported in his hands, angling his head ever so slightly to look up at her with an intrigued expression. 

“My father was a merchant from Smolensk,” she continued, letting him have his request. “He was rich, with land and serfs.”

“Imperial Russia. Let me guess: first half of the nineteenth century?” 

“The summer of 1812,” she verified with a raised eyebrow. 

“The year of Napoleon’s futile invasion,” he said with a nod. “And stormy weather too, as I remember.”

“I thought you would allow me to continue with my story?” He had the decency to look apologetic. “We were fleeing the advancing French. But our carts ran into bandits. We lost all our belongings, and my father was shot.”

“And then you were rescued by a Wolf.”

“By a handsome partisan, who turned out to be a Wolf,” she corrected. 

“And then he brought all the wildness out in you?” 

“And the dark.” Ileana shuddered slightly, though not with cold, and it was apparent that she had trouble meeting his concerned gaze. “Oh, Doctor. It seems however far I chase the sun, the oncoming night and the moon are always baying at the door behind me. They never let me rest.“

“Ileana,” the Doctor said softly, scooting a tad closer and taking her hands in his. “Suppose the shadow reaches your destination before you do?” Her indrawn breath, the ever so slight tightening of her fingers around his as she instinctively sought comfort from such thoughts, said what a million words never could.

~§§~

_“You know how you always complained about the chill and the damp, Mum? How you always threatened to move to Arizona, or Morocco, or the Gobi Desert just to get warm? Well, the desert is plenty cold during the nights. I’m lucky. I’ve got a thick pelt when it counts. Helped some lost hikers this morning, they nearly froze the night before. Poor blokes. I Ah, I just... I wish I...” _

Rose trailed off, ending her message to her dead mother, and slowly shoved her mobile phone back into her pocket as the huge man with the dark hair and even darker golden eyes approached with a sickening smile.

“Good day young lady,” he said conversationally. Rose glared at him, standing to face him with her shoulders back. “Whither away, so close to the Silver Path?”

“Get your eyes checked mate, it’s half past two in the morning,” she snarled. He smirked, sitting at the small fire she’d made and making himself comfortable.

“Once all of this was a mighty forest you know.” 

“Yeah, I was there before they cut it all down and burned what was left. What do you want, Loup-Garou?” 

“It gets lonely in the desert, _Louve-Étoile_. I thought you might like some company.”

“Well I don’t, so I’d appreciate it if you left,” Rose retorted, crossing her arms and standing her ground. The Grey One regarded her for a few more moments before making a point of standing up and brushing himself off. 

“Everyone needs someone,” he said with a smile. “We Wolves most of all.”

“Yeah? Well your kind have made it pretty clear I don’t belong in your packs, so maybe I’m better off as a Lone Wolf. Now leave me alone before I give you an up close look of my fangs.” He laughed, though to his credit he backed a reasonable distance away. 

“No need for that, my fellow Alpha,” he chuckled. “No, dear Luna, I’ll respect your wishes on the grounds that you keep well clear of my territory when you smell the perimeter.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard, what with the reek you’ve got,” Rose muttered, wrinkling her nose in distaste. He rolled his eyes and padded off, figure turning decidedly more lupine as it faded into the shadows until she could see that he was walking away on all fours, shaggy tail disappearing over the crest of a distant hill.

“Creep,” she sighed as she plunked herself back down in front of her fire and watched the flames crackle in the night. 

~§§~

In a secluded part of the train, Hayashi glanced around before dialing into his communicator. 

“Stubbe?” He whispered hoarsely. “Returning my call at last?“

_“I don’t come to your whistle Hayashi,” _The Grey One snarled back. _“What’s your news?”_

“We’re not far from our destination-“

_“Ranch of de Santos.”_

“...I assume so. But her son’s running loose on the train.” Stubbe laughed over the line. 

_“So much for Ileana’s house training,” _he snickered. Hayashi frowned. 

“Well, there are strangers too. A so-called Doctor and his assistant. I’m concerned that they might-“

_“Those two again? They run fast for a brace of Cutclaw footpads.”_

“The Señora seemed... most taken with the Doctor.” 

_“No matter. Ileana can coax as many suitors as she likes. Once I’m back with her she’ll soon forget the panting of a few lovesick poodles. I’ll leave their carcasses to feed the desert dogs.”_

The line clicked off and Hayashi rolled his eyes. 

“If it doesn’t bother you then why do you insist on making sport of their pelts like egotistical trophies?” He muttered, pocketing his communicator and moving to find the Señora.

“So, when are you going to tear me apart?” Turlough asked in a small voice as he was dragged through the train. “Isn’t that what Werewolves do?”

“Don’t believe everything you see in old films,” Anton chuckled. He and Jorge exchanged an amused glance behind Turlough’s back as he was forcibly led toward one of the sleeper cabins. 

“Or hear in old stories,” Jorge added as he opened the door. 

“Right...”

“Do we _look _like ravening monsters?” Anton countered. 

“And the wolf-man I saw outside?”

“Oh, sometimes the darker side tips the scales. Nothing to be ashamed of.” 

“And Werewolf is a _Cutclaw _name,” Jorge growled softly. “I’ve always found it _deeply _offensive.”

“But it’s important to make amends,” Anton said a touch too quickly with a pointed look at his companion. “Jorge, a drink for our guest.”

“...Sorry?” Turlough asked, confused as the man in question obediently popped the crystal stop on a decanter and filled a glass full of deep red wine.

“We wanted to know more about you.”

“Once we realized you were more than human,” Jorge explained as he handed Turlough the drink. 

“Oh, thanks very much,” Turlough retorted sarcastically. “So trying to throw me off the train was _fine _when I was just pond life!” 

“_Drink.”_

“...Thank you.” 

“Humans are just cattle to us,” Anton sighed. He sat on the edge of the bed in the sleeper cabin and sipped delicately at the drink before humming appreciatively. “They’re Cutclaws. Over the years they forcibly subdued their darker instincts...”

“Dulled their wits,” Jorge added as he poured himself a drink as well.

“Tell me about it,” Turlough snorted. Tegan was okay, more than okay really she was outstanding and he supposed the Brigadier had been alright when he’d got to know him a bit better, but for the most part... Well. They certainly were no match for his own people or even Nyssa’s, and the Doctor was leagues above them all. “I thought I’d drown in their stupidity.” 

“Oh yes, we knew _you’d _understand,” Anton chuckled. “Haven’t you always felt that you were... different?”

“Superior,” Turlough corrected, not catching onto what they were really asking. Then again, he didn’t realize they still thought he was human but just with some... advancements to his physiology. “I’ve always felt that.” He paused as he eyed the wine contemplatively. “What’s in this drink? It’s got a bit of a- a flowery aftertaste aside from simple grapes.”

“More?”

“Yes, please. It’s good.” The Doctor didn’t approve of him drinking as he was still an adolescent never mind the rules on his planet were different on the subject, so he had to take what he could get when it was presented to him. “The Doctor doesn’t have to know, now does he?” He laughed before affecting an impression of said Time Lord with a grin. “‘Turlough, are you sure that’s wise?’” The two Wolves laughed and nodded. “Oh, I suppose he means well. We just don’t always see eye to eye.”

“But you’ve always felt alone, that you didn’t belong?” Anton pressed gently. 

“More than that!” Turlough protested. “I’m _special! _I never got the respect I deserved!” He frowned. “So, what’s with all the howling at the moon?”

“Just another half-truth overblown by Hollywood,” Jorge sighed exasperatedly. 

“Turlough, you have... another side that no one else has recognized,” Anton said slowly, standing up. He met Jorge’s gaze and nodded slightly; a relaxed Cutclaw mind was much easier to manipulate. “Look in the mirror. See for yourself.” 

“What?” Turlough asked as he walked over to understand what they were getting at. Together, the two Wolves slowly began easing suggestive images into his mind so that he wouldn’t notice the trespass. “Ugh, I look a wreck.”

“Keep looking. Look, _hard._”

“Better than a dull-witted human though. Know what? Wits are like claws. Have to keep them sharp.” 

“Look _through _yourself. At the _real _Turlough, behind you.” By this point both Wolves were smiling, eyes glinting cruelly as Turlough did as they asked. It was only too easy, really. “What do you want to see?“

“No, not Cut_claws_,” Turlough amended seeming to find his own joke funny. “Cut_throats!_” 

_“Harder.”_

“What do you want to see?” Jorge asked sweetly.

“Or what _don’t _you want to see?” Anton amended. They both pushed a tiny bit harder at Turlough’s mind and let the overlap of their voices provide a slight hypnotic element. 

“What do you want _us _to see?”

“Keep looking.”

“No,” Turlough gasped as the vision solidified (he thought) in the mirror. A large, red wolf with blood-stained fangs and feral blue eyes. “What is it?”

“You tell us Turlough,” Anton laughed. 

“It- it’s behind me! Make it go away! Take it away!” 

“Oh, we’re all of us surprised the first time we see the truth,” Anton all but purred. This was going splendidly. 

~§§~

“Five million, Stubbe,” Hayashi said stubbornly as he locked himself into a coat closet. He’d finally succeeded in calling the Grey One back again. “You said I should name my price.”

_“Five million what?” _Came the bored reply. _“Is this money that you’re talking about?” _

“Yes. You said once I’d finished-“

_“I swallowed a tax gatherer once, just shy of Dramstadt. Swallowed him whole.” _His voice took on a tone of disgust. _“Never again. Was spitting _coins _for days afterwards. And you want _money!?” His laughter pealed over the connection, and the man looked up worriedly as the sound of voices came nearer. 

“They’re coming. All call you back.” Hayashi ended the call and abruptly stepped out of the closet into the main part of the car. A few seconds later Ileana and the Doctor entered. Señora! Any news of your son?” He asked concernedly.

“No trace,“ she sighed tiredly.

“Yes, and now my companion has disappeared as well,” the Doctor added worriedly, gaze darting about. “Don’t suppose he wandered this way?” 

“I’ve seen no one, so sorry.”

“Who were you speaking to?” Ileana asked sharply. 

“Speaking-“

“On the vid link,” the Doctor snapped impatiently. He didn’t like the idea of Turlough wandering about with a bunch of Werewolves on the prowl; no matter how nice Ileana seemed her companions were somewhat lacking. “When we came in, and you walked out of the closet?”

“Oh!” Hayashi exclaimed, pretending to have to think it over for a few seconds. “That. The university. My faculty. I was trying to explain about Turo and didn’t want any unnecessary interruptions.”

“I told you to speak to no one while you were in my service!” Ileana reminded him, cool exterior gradually melting with boiling anger. 

“My apologies. If it’s any consolation, it was a bad link with rather a lot of interference.”

“Hayashi, when my son is found I want you to share your diagnosis with the Doctor here. I’m sure he can be of assistance to you.”

“Just think of me as a complete novice,” the Doctor suggested sweetly when he saw the frown slide into place and numerous protests begin to form on the slippery human’s lips. 

“Oh, surely not!” Hayashi exclaimed with exaggerated mock-horror at the idea. “I bow to your, _obvious _advanced experience! _Doctor-san.”_

“And I to yours, _Hayashi-san_,” the Doctor retorted, the honorary title becoming much more of an insult in both directions. “Perhaps we can start by checking the damage to your equipment.”

“Don’t move, either of you,” Ileana whispered hoarsely. Both men glanced at her in confusion before following her line of sight to the exterior of the car. Whereas the Doctor went entirely still, Hayashi started violently and jumped back.

“What is that!?”

“Don’t. Move. Hanging down...” she swallowed as a low growl made its way through the reinforced glass. 

“Your son I take it,” the Time Lord murmured.

“He’s on the roof!” Hayashi exclaimed loudly. “He’ll be swept off!”

“Oh Victor... Victor, listen to me!” Ileana begged one calm, soothing tones when it was obvious by her appearance that she was anything but. 

“Fully transformed,” the Doctor observed, fascinated. He leaned slightly toward the window, hands shoved into his trouser pockets, as he sought to get a better look. “Complete lycanthropic metamorphosis.”

“Victor! Come down. It’s safe, they won’t hurt you, I won’t let them! Victor please!” 

“Stay here Hayashi,” the Doctor ordered as he began walking slowly toward the window. 

“He’s _my _patient!” The man protested, ignoring the order and moving as well.

“He’s slipping!” Ileana exclaimed, distraught. “He can’t hold on!”

“I’m going out after him!” 

“You’re mad!” Hayashi stuttered. The Doctor rolled his eyes at the outburst as he sought to find the window catch to open it. “Señora, stop this maniac!” 

“No, you’ll frighten him!” Ileana protested. There was just enough time for her guests to cast her a look of complete incredulity before the window smashed open and a large brown Wolf came hurtling into the train car. It rounded on Hayashi, who cowered and backed into the nearest corner. 

“No, no!” 

~§§~

“Stop it staring!” Turlough screamed, going to turn away from the mirror only to find that strong hands had a death grip on his shoulders keeping him in place. “Make it go away!”

“What’s happening!?” Inez exclaimed as she came running into the room - no doubt drawn by the sound of raised voices in distress. “Lichfuss? What are you doing _now??_”

“Just enlightening our young guest Inez,” Anton replied pleasantly, unaffected by the squirming boy in his grasp. “Don’t say you didn’t notice Turlough’s potential-“

“You’re supposed to be looking for Victor!” Inez protested. Turlough finally managed to get free but was trapped in the room by the Wolves as they squared off against one another. 

“Victor can’t get far, and this could help.”

“_What _could help!? The scent of this poor boy’s fear? Let him go, Lichfuss! Jorge, make him stand down!”

“It’s there,” Turlough whimpered as his head swam with visions. “Behind me. Make it stop staring at me!”

“What are you doing to him?” Inez asked, eyes hardening into flint with suspicion. She could feel the telepathic presence of her two compatriots practically zinging energetically through the air and knew the poor Cutclaw stood no chance at fighting the influence off. 

“Just a gift for the Señora,” Anton chuckled with a toothy smile. 

“We didn’t force you to look in the mirror now did we, Turlough?” Jorge asked softly, the gentle tones hiding the abject callous view he held of the whole thing from where he was lounging on the bed with his wine. 

“Make it stop,” Turlough whimpered, entire body shaking. No matter what he did he couldn’t look away.

“Oh, not the mirror trick,” Inez groaned. “It’s all a game to you, isn’t it? Haven’t you learned yet? The Calling toward the Moonlit Path should be a sacred moment! Not something for your _amusement!_” 

“Once he started we could hardly stop him,” Jorge sighed. 

“Because you can’t kill an idea, you vile-“

“Turlough, what do you see?” Anton prodded with sadistic amusement. Inez barked at him with anger and he merely shrugged, unperturbed. 

“A, a blood red shadow,” Turlough stuttered. “Is it mine? It’s eyes are so, so _feral..._” 

“Are you both _mad!?_” Inez shouted, finally managing to startle Jorge out of his stupor enough that he growled softly with displeasure as he mopped the spilled wine from his shirt. “He’ll be scarred for life! If he chooses the Path, centuries of torment! Now stop it! I’m going to fetch the Señora.”

As she whisked from the cabin Turlough saw his last chance at help disappearing with her. 

“Stop, help me!” He called after her, desperate. He ran for the nearest door and out into the hall. “Help me! _Doctor!” _Anton and Jorge snickered and, when they exchanged a glance, burst out laughing. 

“Victor, there’s no need to be afraid,” Ileana was coaxing as she sought vainly to get her son away from the terrified Hayashi. “No one’s going to hurt you!” Victor turned toward his mother, growls softening as he recognized her scent and calming presence, and she let out a soft sigh as he allowed her to step a few paces closer. “It’s all right, little one. It’s all right...” 

“If she calms him I might be able to reach my tranquilizer gun,” Hayashi whispered hoarsely. The sound of his voice made the hackles on Victor’s back stand straight up and he swallowed.

“Bad idea,” the Doctor murmured back unnecessarily. “Señora, do you want us to leave?”

“You can’t leave her alone with-“

“She’s his _mother._” The implied ‘you idiot’ was almost tangible. 

“Yes,” Ileana murmured as she moved forward again and was allowed to gently run her fingers through her son’s pelt between his ears. “Please back off slowly. Look outside, Victor my darling, we’re nearly home. See? No more train, no more upset...” he began to calm once more and she looked to be near tears as the two onlookers slowly backed toward the door. “That’s it... that’s it... oh, my dear one. Nuzzle, that’s it, there we are...”

Of course, at that moment Turlough burst through the doorway radiating fear and screamed when he saw Victor, which put Victor on the offensive once again immediately, and in the confusion as the Doctor tried to grab hold of his panicking companion Hayashi shot Victor squarely in the neck with a tranquilizer dart.

“_Victor!_” Ileana screamed as her son went limp in her arms. 

“Turlough, get away from the window!” The Doctor ordered as Ileana began crying hysterically. 

“It’s coming after me!” The boy shouted.

“_What is??_”

“My shadow! Get it away from me! Get it away!” 

He climbed onto the edge of the window not heeding the broken glass and jumped off the train. Ice-cold fear stabbed the Doctor in his hearts as he rushed to peer outside, throat constricting when he saw the seemingly-immobile shape on the ground beside the tracks fading rapidly into the distance. He turned abruptly to the last person he might be able to see sense, the brief hope crashing into his toes even as he asked.

“Ileana, please! Stop the train!”

“My son has been shot!” She wailed, uncomprehending that he was merely sleeping. 

“Turlough’s fallen off the-“

“My son is dying!”

“Señora,” Hayashi started, stupidly coming toward her. “It was a tranquilizer shot!” Both he and the Doctor quickly backpedaled when they saw the pupils in her eyes rapidly dilate.

“Murderer!” She growled, voice much deeper and feral. 

“No, it was a tranquilizer! Please, Señora, control yourself!”

“Murdering Cutclaw! I’ll drive you from this train!”

“She’s changing! Keep her away from me!”

“Ileana!” The Doctor shouted, torn between his friend and saving a rather unlikeable man’s life. He stared miserably as he tried in vain to salvage what was left of the situation and felt the threads slipping from his grasp. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation: Gauchos are South American Cowboys, so basically what Anton Lichfuss was saying was that Victor ate a few people and liked how they tasted. Louve-Étoile means ‘Star Wolf’ in French, with the female derivative of Wolf. In like ways the title of this audio story, Loups-Garoux, is French for Werewolves (though they got the translation slightly wrong. No skin off my nose, as I am not French, but I wanted to point this out in case it does actually offend native speakers). 
> 
> General Notes: Yeah, so... this story is very close, almost word for word, to what happened in the audio. I want there to be strict adherence to canon up until the moment Five meets Rose, and then things will start changing. Rewrites will be off the cuff and more verbatim rather than a scene by scene play-through, as that is much for fun for me and I know (as a reader of other peoples’ works myself) more fun for you. Additionally, Five isn’t like the other Doctors and they aren’t like him. Rose is older, having come into her own, and isn’t the teenaged shop girl we were introduced to so her reactions will also be different. 
> 
> This took two or three days at most to write once I was finally able to knuckle down and do it, sorry it took such a long time to update, college has become the bane of my existence but I just got rid of some huge assignments all due at the same time and have some free time to kill. *heaves sigh of tired relief* Don’t do Econ if you’re not going into Accounting, kids (AKA I hate numbers and numbers hate me, it’s a mutual loathing), and above all ALWAYS check ratemyprofessor.com before signing up for a class unless you have no choice in the time slot or instructor. I didn’t do that and now I’m paying for it because this Prof SUCKS. 


	3. Loups-Garoux III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just one more part of the Big Finish Audio Drama Loups-Garoux, and then I can well and truly begin in earnest. Yay!

“She’ll kill us all!” Hayashi yelped, jumping cowardly behind the Doctor as the Time Lord began slowly approaching his hostess where she sat hunched over the drugged body of her son. 

“Ileana,” the Doctor began in what he sincerely hoped was a soothing tone of voice, “remember who you are. Don’t give in to your baser instincts! I’m asking you to stop the train now- stop the train, for Victor’s sake!” Her breathing evened out into heavy pants as Ileana fought for clarity of mind. 

“Don’t ever give me orders,” she rasped.

“Stop the train, _please_,” the Doctor amended as he fought back an eye roll.

“I will not.”

“Then I’ll do it myself.” He didn’t care if his voice trembled as he rushed from the compartment. He _would not _lose Turlough like he’d lost Adric, he _wouldn’t_. Never again. 

“Doctor!” Reluctantly, he turned back toward her. She at least looked regretful on his behalf.

“Yes?”

“The train’s already slowing. We’ve almost reached our destination.” 

“I need to look for Turlough. He may be badly hurt.” The Time Lord looked about the room and sighed as he focused his attention on the man cowering in the corner. “Hayashi, are you all right?”

“Yes, yes,” Hayashi muttered dismissively, obviously embarrassed. “Just an occupational hazard...” 

“Doctor, I need you,” Ileana protested quietly. “For Victor.”

“I’m sure Hayashi can cope. Like tomato sauce, money _also _covers a multitude of sins.” 

“Please Doctor,” she insisted. “Others are coming to meet us.” Something in his expression shifted, something not altogether pleasant the Señora decided as it darkened his entire demeanor, and he asked a tad sharply,

“Others? Like you?”

“It’s for your own safety,” she explained weakly. “You’ll find I pay very well.” That unpleasantness reached his expressive eyes and became laced with disgust. 

“Discussing money is rather _vulgar_, don’t you think? Just the sort of thing that _humans _do. Besides, _my _fees are non-negotiable. I want Turlough back.”

“We’ll find him Doctor, I promise. Just, please... stay.” Maybe it was her broken expression or the threat she’d handed him, but there was a split moment of tense silence before his shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Hayashi, shouldn’t we be attending to the Señora’s son?” 

“Thank you Doctor-“ Ileana started, biting her lip when he made a point of turning his back and ignoring her. 

~§§~

Rose was trying to get some sleep on the hard ground, her back turned toward the fire for whatever warmth she wanted to be comfortable, when she was rather rudely interrupted by a boy running past in what looked to be a rather sorry state of late 20th century English private school clothing. He yelped as he strayed too close to the fire, his trouser leg bursting into flames, and before Rose could so much as ask him what he thought he was doing he was rolling about on the ground frantically trying to put it out. 

“Help!”

“Where are you going in such a hurry, huh?” She asked, tutting slightly as she reached out and firmly smacked the flames out of existence. “Someone chasin’ ya?” The redhead grimaced, sifting next to the fire with his chin resting in his hands and looking despondent. 

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Either way you don’t belong out here, that much I can tell,” she pressed as she sat beside him. “You sound English. How far off am I?”

“I... I’m not from England, but I moved there for a short time not that long ago,” he said carefully before giving her a look. “You sound English too.”

“‘S ‘cause I am.” She nudged him and nodded when she got a small bemused smile from him. “Now what’s going on?”

“I got separated from this friend I was traveling with. We were traveling toward... Uh... where is the nearest settlement, exactly?”

“The de Santos ranch,” Rose replied warily, eyeing him for a reaction. “I wouldn’t go there if I were you. Strange creatures walk the grounds there, and more and more seem to be gathering all the time.”

“Blame my crazy designated driver,” the copper-headed stranger groaned. “I never wanted to leave the Carnivale in the first place, but he has a bad habit of sticking his nose into matters that don’t concern him.”

“Ah. Well you’re welcome to stay here and wait for him to come looking for ya. I’ll protect you from the Wolves. My name’s Rose, by the way. Rose Tyler.”

“Turlough. Hang on. Wolves? What, all of them?” He laughed and she rolled her eyes. 

“Why not?”

“You’re just a kid!”

“I’m nearly 200 years old,” she countered, watching the color drain from his face as he realized what she was. “Don’t worry. I’m not like the others. I was bitten, while ago now. He wasn’t exactly from Earth.”

“What, a space Werewolf?”

“Yep. He was supposed to take me with him when he left, but he wanted things from me I wasn’t willing to give him and turned me without permission. Just up and left me here, suddenly an outsider on my home planet, and there isn’t anything I can do about it. Not like the Earth Wolves, me. We don’t exactly get along. What planet are you from, then?”

Turlough blinked at her, stunned.

~§§~

Ileana stepped out of the car and into another, in need of fresh air and some time to collect herself. She still felt unsettled. Instead of peace and quiet, she ran smack into Lichfuss.

“Anton,” she greeted guardedly. “Where have you been?”

“You nearly lost control Ileana,” he remarked with a raised eyebrow, looking entirely too amused for her liking. Her temper was still on a hair-trigger and she made a considerable effort to reign it in. 

“You were listening!?_”_

“Mind your Cutclaw guests don’t get to see the _real _Ileana de Santos. They frighten _easily_.” 

“They already know,” she growled, drawing herself up with as much remaining dignity as she currently still possessed. “And you could have _helped, _instead of skulking outside the door!” 

“I thought you said it was up to you to fight your own battles?” He countered, hackles raised as the hair on the nape of his neck bristled ever so slightly. 

“That depends on who _starts them_. At least I wasn’t frightening Turlough into throwing himself off the train!”

“Just the old mirror trick,” Anton said offhandedly as he leaned against the wall, all too pleased with himself. “Making him face up to his own dark side. He didn’t like what he saw.”

“It was nasty,” she snapped before sighing tiredly. “Look, we’re nearly at the old cattle station. You must help unload the trucks; Tino will be there to help escort us to the ranch.”

“Where we’ll meet all the others that you’ve summoned,” he muttered disapprovingly, though he withered under her glare. 

“Yes. Some of the oldest and wildest of our kind, all united at last.” 

“And how will they react to your new acquaintance, the Doctor?” 

“Prepare the convoy and move Victor,” Ileana ordered, walking away before pausing to shoot a parting shot over her shoulder. “Oh, and _Turlough _has to be found.” 

“_What _does this _Doctor _mean to you?” Anton asked possessively, eyes flashing a dangerous wild darkness. She smiled, turning back to him now that she had him right where she wanted him. 

“Ah... so _that’s _what all this is about,” she snickered. Her eyes were hard. “Leave the Doctor alone. He’s no threat to you.”

“He reeks of death-“

“So do you, Anton!” 

“And that excites you, doesn’t it?” He whispered, leaning closer. A split moment later he yelped as she dug her nails into his wrist. 

“I’m _sick _of it. But the Doctor is strange... a maverick. I tried to look into his mind, but he shook off my thoughts like raindrops.”

“You’re mad, entrusting your _precious son _to this stranger!” 

“The Doctor understands and _respects _us, whatever he is.” Her tone carried finality and he conceded, but not without a smug warning. 

“Then we’ll see what the others make of him. Don’t forget; common Werewolves learn to bite before they learn to talk.” 

“We’re definitely slowing down,” Hayashi offered tentatively. He’d developed a grudging respect for the odd Englishman who had saved his life without a second thought otherwise, and had to admit that he felt bad for the poor boy he’d been traveling with.

“But getting further from Turlough,” the Doctor sighed defeatedly. Hayashi just nodded, not sure how to respond to that, so he got on with his task.

“Help me move the scanning unit into its crate.”

“...Right.” They both grimaced at the weight as they hefted the equipment into the air. 

“Toward me.” 

“Yes.”

“...They _will _find your companion...”

“Oh I don’t doubt it,” the Time Lord muttered as they began lowering it into the crate. “It’s his _condition _that worries me.” There was a thud as the machinery was laid to rest. 

“Thank you Doctor,” Hayashi murmured as he rubbed at his neck.

“Oh, that’s all right. Turlough was terrified before he jumped, you see. I think the Señora’s friends were having a... _game _with him.”

“If you see viciousness as some form of play, I suppose. Time to move Victor.”

“They seem to see humans as some sort of toy.”

“Oh, truer than you may think.”

“Hayashi, what are you working on?” The Doctor asked, lightly gripping the man’s shoulder and bringing them to a stop in the middle of a walkway.

“The... Señora approached me to find a cure for her son,” he stammered.

“But he’s stuck in the form of a wolf and can’t change back. Even when the moon’s _not _full.”

“The moon has nothing to do with it,” Hayashi explained unconcernedly. They began walking again, but more slowly; more geared toward keeping a conversation.

“You’ve made an extensive study, of course. Hayashi... I’m not trying to steal your thunder,” the Doctor said, brow furrowing as something seemed to occur to him. They were in the room they’d laid Victor in, where he was sprawled over a cot.

“I’m not going to miss the opportunity to work on a live Werewolf. Look at this poor brute. A creature of legend. A monster, unknown to science!”

“In any case, his kind are so adept at going unnoticed,” he summarized flatly. Hayashi nodded. “This ability to wipe the selective awareness of humans, it’s very clever. As good as invisible.”

“But... you see them,” Hayashi pointed out suspiciously. The Doctor merely shrugged, then frowned again as his fingers found Victor’s neck.

“Nobody’s perfect. His pulse is very sluggish. What sort of medication have you been giving him?” He wandered over to the mixture currently open on the bedside table, and Hayashi started quickly to block him. 

“_Please! _Uh, please, don’t touch that.”

“Just looking.” The hands were shoved deep in the trouser pockets, but the innocent tone wasn’t exactly convincing. Hayashi well remembered his uncle. Meddlers were never happy with being told to stay away from something, and this Doctor fellow was a first-class meddler in his own right. “What is it? Some sort of motor-neuron repressor?”

“I... should have used more,” Hayashi sighed evasively, desperate to change the subject. “Then Turo might still be alive.” They both glanced toward the window as the train shuddered and the unpleasant sound of the squeaking, groaning brakes could be heard. 

“I think we’re finally arriving."

“Then we’d better get this creature moved.” 

“Does Ileana know that you’re mapping out her son’s genomic sequence?” The Doctor asked. Hayashi ground his teeth. Meddler indeed. 

“I... guessed we’d come to that,” he replied in a forced even tone. 

“As you say I’m _very _observant.” Soft features, bright sky blue eyes with readily apparent intelligence, and a hidden danger if what he heard wasn’t to his liking despite his congenial personality. Hayashi watched him closely, trying to gauge his reaction, but found he couldn’t read anything in his movements and expression. 

“Purely scientific grounding for Victor’s treatment-“

“And another mystery bites the desert dust. It leaves a little flat, don’t you think?”

“If I can isolate the gene that is responsible for his lycanthropic tendencies-“

“Then you might be able to cure him completely.”

“...Yes.”

“And then he’d never be a Werewolf again.”

“Exactly. We can rid the world of these monstrous genetic freaks.” Hayashi, who had thought he’d found an ally at last, was not prepared for the anger that lit blue fire in the Doctor’s eyes. To the other man’s credit his voice was entirely toneless, though cold. 

“I don’t think Ileana or her kind will thank you for that.” 

“Just remember your companion Doctor,” Hayashi retorted in a low, quiet tone. “If you cross me, I’ll make sure you never see him again.” 

...Was it possible to find yourself staring into the depths of Hell straining to be unleashed? Because Hayashi was pretty sure he was looking right at that. 

The ramp to the car lowered and Ileana frowned as she took in the barren station.

“No one here!” She exclaimed, looking to her party with concern. “Where’s Tino? I told him to meet us!”

“He must have been delayed,” Inez hastened to suggest, though the crease in her forehead suggested she too had her worries. “With the others.”

“We’ll see,” Ileana muttered as she dialed the vid-phone. It rang repeatedly, the receiver on the other end refusing to pick up. “Oh, where is he?” 

“Nothing in the air but the moon,” Inez murmured, inhaling deeply. 

“And no answer.”

“So he must be on his way then.” 

“It’s all too quiet,” Ileana fretted as she began to pace. “No Cicadas... tell Jorge to unhook the trucks. It’ll take time to get the equipment unpacked.”

“Yes, Señora-“ they both turned abruptly at the sound of a howl and stiffened.

“Do you hear?”

“Who is it?”

“I- I don’t know. Inez, get Jorge now!” She ordered urgently. She needed her Beta. “Hurry!” As Inez dashed back toward the train, she clapped her hands together and wrung them. “No, not _you...” _she whimpered. “Pieter Stubbe! You won’t have my son!” She then gathered her dignity and lifted her head, letting forth her own howl in challenge. 

~§§~

“Oh, hold still!” Rose admonished, smacking Turlough lightly upside the back of his head as she slathered something on his skin.

“What _is _that horrible-“

“It keeps the flies off, okay? Trust me, you’re gonna need it.” 

“It stings!”

“...Yeah, I’m getting a major city boy vibe offa you,” she muttered. “That it? You running from a city? Want to see something new?”

“Not necessarily,” Turlough sighed, wincing as she applied the- whatever it was. “I don’t even know anymore. I was on the train, I fell off, I landed in some brushwood.”

“Yeah, I got that the first twelve times you said it. Why though? Why was that gathering so important to your friend?” He snorted in suppressed laughter in response and she arched an eyebrow. “What?”

“Doubt he even knew about the gathering,” he explained. “The Doctor’s more of a... play it by ear type of person. Rarely ever plans to do anything, it all just happens.” Something suddenly occurred to him. “Hey, was that why you were out here? We’re you traveling to the gathering too?”

“Not exactly,” Rose sighed, finishing up her work and sitting next to him again. “Whenever I run into their packs they shun me. They can tell I’m not like them and it scares them. I’m out here because I don’t belong anywhere else except somewhere I can see the stars spread out for miles. Lived in Antarctica for a few years for that express reason, actually.” Turlough’s eyes went huge. 

“Really?”

“Mmhmm. Cold doesn’t bother me, there weren’t a lot of people, penguins are really cute, and hey, if I wanted to eat something I could always deal with the leopard seals that occasionally tried to take a bite out of me. And the lights in the sky...” Rose trailed off, a distant place in her gold-flecked whiskey brown eyes, as she pushed a strand of honey gold hair away from her face. “First time I felt at home since I was turned, really. What about you? What’s home mean to you?” 

~§§~

“Closer!” Ileana called, directing as they unloaded her son from the train.

“Edge it toward me Hayashi,” the Doctor suggested, trying not to roll his eyes at the near-useless instructions given by someone who couldn’t tell what was going on as well as the people in the thick of it. 

“No, that’s too far!”

“Back a bit?” Hayashi suggested, huffing as they struggled to maintain equilibrium. They accidentally knocked the side of the door.

“It’s tilting!” The two men exchanged an exasperated glance. 

“No I think it’s all right!” The Doctor called back, forced brightness in his tone. 

“Please, be careful!” Hayashi rolled his eyes. For all their differences, they were quickly bonding over their waning patience when it came to the coddling this woman was suggesting her grown son to when in the eyes of her own culture there was nothing wrong with him. “Careful with my son!”

“Ileana, he’s quite safe,” the Doctor soothed, only slightly admonishing. She eyed him critically for a few moments before conceding that her fretting wasn’t doing anyone any sort of good whatsoever. They managed to get the gurney out onto the platform and into a vehicle for transport to the ranch the remainder of the distance and the two men leaned against the side, rather pleased with themselves. “There. That should do it.”

“I cannot work with this continual interference,” Hayashi protested. It was Ileana’s turn to roll her eyes. 

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Ileana, perhaps you should stay here with Victor,” the Doctor suggested with a bright smile as he gripped the smaller man on the arm and began walking toward the adjacent vehicle. “Hayashi and I have to check the equipment in the other car.” 

“But we’ve already checked it-“ 

“Come along _doctor_, can’t be too careful.” 

“We can’t wait here!” Ileana stressed. The Doctor bit back a scathing retort and smiled. 

“Won’t be long!” 

“What do you mean, _too careful!?” _Hayashi spat once they were far enough away to have a private conversation. The Doctor fixed him with a grim expression.

“The Señora’s bite is far worse than her bark and I don’t want her to lose her head- or _you yours _for that matter.” 

“I see... well, a word of advice in return, Doctor? The male Wolf is a very competitive brute. If it senses a rival its challenge can be ferocious.”

“Um, what?” The Time Lord asked, looking genuinely confused. His brow furrowed as he thought. “I can’t imagine what you mean.” Hayashi sighed, writing the man off as entirely clueless of the Señora’s interest in him, and moved on with his task.

“Victor’s due for his medication. Excuse me.” They started walking back to the others.

“Yes, and your treatment of him is something I wanted to talk to you about,” the Doctor muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Unfortunately, while our friends are busy loading up I have a more pressing task.” 

“What are you doing?” Hayashi exclaimed as the blond lunatic jumped into a car.

“Someone has to go and find Turlough! Tell Ileana I’ll be back.” He grinned, affecting a little wave as the engine revved. “Cheerio!” There was a heavy thud as the engine stalled, two large hands slamming onto the hood and caving in the metal accompanied by a growl, and the Doctor lowered his forehead against the steering wheel as he muttered a curse in his native tongue. “Hello, Lichfuss...” 

“Where are you going?” 

“Let go of the car, Lichfuss.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Anton growled ferally. The Doctor raised his head and blinked. Of he was correct - and he usually was about this sort of thing - the man wanted to rip his head off. Why, he couldn’t think.

“I’m _going _to find Turlough,” the Doctor retorted, hissing as could feel him attempting to influence his mind and decided to give him a taste of his own medicine, lowering his shields just enough to lull him into a false sense of security before abruptly raising them again and effectively slamming a brick wall against his nose for his trouble. 

“You’re staying here,” Anton huffed even as he whimpered, letting go with one hand to clutch at the side of his skull. 

“What’s happening Doctor?” Ileana asked, quickly coming over. 

“Your little pet is escaping,” Lichfuss snapped. Ileana raised an eyebrow.

“Doctor! Stop the car. Stop now!” The Doctor, seeing that resistance was useless with the idiotic Lichfuss sitting on the hood, jerked the keys out of the ignition and sprung the door open. He slammed it harder than necessary as he approached her.

“I apologize, Señora-“ though he hardly sounded even remotely close to being so- “but Turlough has to be found.

“Why?” Lichfuss asked, panting as he slid off the car and circled the two before coming to stand just behind Ileana’s shoulder possessively. “He’s no milk-soft puppy. He has claws of his own.” 

“The Doctor’s right,” Ileana said quickly with a sharp bite to her words, catching something dangerous flicker through their guests eyes. She’d gathered that the Doctor was by no means a violent man, but for a moment it had looked like he was seriously contemplating socking Anton one on the jaw. Not that the stupid poodle didn’t deserve it, but now was neither the time nor the place. “Besides, I promised him. Go and find Turlough. _Now_.”

“I will _not_,” Lichfuss snapped, puffing out his chest. Ileana rounded on him, clenching her jaw and baring her fangs. 

“I’m still your leader!” She snapped, pupils almost blackening her entire irises as her voice lowered and turned quite a bit more gravelly. “Now go and find Turlough, and _don’t hurt him_.” Anton whimpered and slunk off to the side to watch the rest of the conversation, tail between his legs in all but reality due to the simple fact that he currently did not possess one. 

“Thank you Señora,” the Doctor sighed. 

“What are you to her, Doctor?” Anton asked sharply. The Time Lord rolled his eyes.

“Here tell help and nothing more,” he answered, somehow managing to sound both tired and perplexed at the same time. 

“Ileana! What is he to you?”

“He’s a _doctor_,” she snapped. “Now take the third truck, and _find. Turlough.” _She softened her tone when he still looked reluctant, knowing exactly what would get his flea-bitten hide moving. “I’d consider it a great _favor, _Anton.” 

“I don’t need to use _Cutclaw _machines,” Lichfuss retorted proudly before stalking off. He broke into a run, shifting as he got farther out into the desert until all they could see was a massive Wolf pelting through the tumbleweeds.

“Was that wise, Señora?” The Doctor asked quietly once he was well and truly gone. “You see, I want Turlough back in _one _piece.”

“Herr Lichfuss will do as he’s told,” Ileana replied with a knowing smirk. “When he wants something that desperately, he can’t resist.”

“Ah, right...” the Doctor murmured, tips of his ears turning pink in embarrassment as the full meaning of what she was implying sunk in. She nodded before calling out.

“Hayashi?”

“Yes, Señora?”

“Travel with your machines in the hover truck. Jorge will drive.”

“But Señora, I accompany your son- I have to administer his medication!” 

“No, the Doctor travels with me,” she said firmly. The little man deflated, though he still looked cross.

“Ah. I see...”

“Give me the correct dosage. We’ll be sure a Victor gets it.”

“Señora, I think it would be better-“ the Doctor started, but was quickly interrupted.

“_You _will travel with me,” Ileana repeated stubbornly. “Where I can keep an eye on you.” He sighed, ruffling the hair at the back of his head and looking annoyed.

“It’s getting so no one trusts anyone around here,” he muttered.

“Running errands?” Anton spat as his paws flew across the ground. He was seething. “Why _me? _While _he _stays. Find the goat-meat stinking boy. Why is the Doctor _staying?_ Because _he _can’t run.” There was a pause, and then a proud addendum. “Not like _me_. She sent- _me _as a favor to her, she said. No one better. So... what happens while I’m out of the way?”

His strides faltered before picking up again, and he shook his head to clear it.

“She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t dare. I’ll show her _favors_-“ Lichfuss skidded to a halt, hackles raised as an unfamiliar scent wafted through the wind. He raised his snout to take it in and promptly bared his teeth. “Who’s there? Who is it?”

His tail immediately found a home between his legs as a deep, feral, and decidedly hungry growl from something much bigger than him sounded behind him. Several somethings. He whipped round and started laughing in relief. 

“Well, good evening to you brothers,” he chuckled. “It’s a fine moonlit night to go prowling, wouldn’t you agree?”

~§§~

“This way Turlough,” Rose muttered as they traversed a steep hill. Loose shale clattered down into the dry riverbed and threatened to roll their ankles, but she seemed much more comfortable with it than him. 

“I thought we were moving on? You know, toward the ranch and my friend?” 

“Not out in the open like that we aren’t. Too many unfamiliar smells. I don’t like them. They make my hackles itch.”

“Rose?” Turlough called quietly, stopping. She looked over her shoulder at him.

“Yeah?”

“Why are you so afraid of the other Wolves? I know you said you weren’t like them, but surely with the way humans have treated the environment such petty divides wouldn’t be enough to keep you apart.” She shrugged. They continued on for a little bit until they reached solid ground, and then she answered. 

“They live in packs. And each pack has a rivalry with the other. I don’t have a pack, and that makes me an outcast. By their customs it’s because I did something wrong and my own abandoned me.”

“So just us then, a couple of lone wolves out in the graveyard of a once mighty rainforest,” Turlough sighed. Rose snorted. “What?”

“You’re no Wolf, coppertop.” 

“How can you tell?” 

“What?”

“How can you...” he toed the ground with his shoe. “Never mind.” He shivered. Rose smiled at him.

“Come on. It’s dark and freezing at night. Curl up next to me, I’ll keep you warm ‘till sunrise.”

“You’re not exactly warm-looking,” Turlough laughed. His eyes widened when she smirked and then shifted right in front of him; where the girl had once stood a large, honey-gold Wolf with a pair of gold-flecked whiskey colored human’s eyes staring at him mischievously. The magnificent creature laid on the ground and rested a massive, beautiful head on her front paws before chuffing softly at him, creamy tail more platinum than sand lazily sweeping the dust. Hesitantly, Turlough got down beside her and snuggled against her side. He hummed appreciatively as her fur emanated a soft warmth that seeped back into his frozen and numb fingers, spread through his arms, and settled like a comforting protective presence in his chest. He wasn’t tired, but he felt he could relax for a few moments while Rose kept all the potential threats away. 

~§§~

“It’ll be light soon Ileana,” the Doctor commented softly, stretching stiff muscles. As a general rule Time Lords didn’t get cold easily - or hot for that matter - but being exposed to the freezing desert for an entire evening didn’t exactly do one any favors. “How much further?”

“About 20 kilometers to the ranch,” she replied with a slight overlaying tone of sleepy pondering running through her words. “But the desert swallowed the road, so it may take Inez longer.” She glanced at the unconscious form of her son and frowned. “Shouldn’t you have given Victor his medication by now?” 

“He’s still asleep,” the Doctor murmured, rubbing at his temples. “I think we should wait a bit.”

“But, Hayashi said the dose should be increased-“

“I know he did. But I think we can afford to be a little _less _zealous. We don’t want Victor so reliant on drugs he can’t cope without.”

“You look exhausted.”

“It’s... been a trying time lately.”

“Doctor, when was the last time you slept?”

“Too long,” he admitted, slumping further in his seat and looking exhausted. There was a bone-deep weariness present that had less to do with physical exhaustion and more with emotional, mental. Ileana sighed. If there were more room, she would have paced. She changed the subject.

“Why are we moving so _slowly?_ Inez should get a move on.”

“This truck is air-worthy, correct?” The Doctor asked. She nodded, shoulders tensing. “So why are we on the ground?”

“We can’t _fly_,” Ileana laughed. “Don’t you know that? We’re _Earthbound_. Our elements are earth, water. We need to be in contact with the soil and rock. The Earth’s old bones.”

“So that’s why you drove straight through the Carnivale crowds in Rio,” he summarized, looking interested. 

“Mm. Even a first-floor apartment makes me queasy. And as for aircraft...”

“I am fire and air,” the Doctor murmured. “My other elements are gifted base of life.” He sighed. “Sorry, just a quote. Cleopatra in her tomb.” 

“What, the queen of Egypt?”

“Poetic license, really. In real life, she had all the subtle whit of a carpet beater.” He smiled at his own joke, which was either ignored or unnoticed by his audience, and his cheerful visage crumbled a tiny bit. 

“I take it that observation’s not from personal experience,” Ileana asked carefully, merely blinking at the commentary. 

“More than just hearsay,” the Doctor countered. She raised her eyebrow.

“...Exactly how old _are _you, Doctor?” He frowned, sighing. The truck jolted as they hit a bump and they both winced as they were jostled.

“That’s a question I usually ignore.” 

“But...?”

“They say I’m a lot younger than I used to be.”

“You mean you’re a lot older than you look.” 

“Oh, now you’re being unnecessarily personal,” he muttered. In truth, it was barely even surface level mock offense. He was more interested in contemplating his newest appearance, how he hadn’t appeared or felt this physically young since he was in his first body long before his first Regeneration. His fourth body had gotten close, but there was always an underlying _settled _quality about that one that no amount of Cheshire Cat grins and stupidly long scarves could negate. _This _body... 

“Of course I am,” Ileana relied, not bothering to counter his claim. He startled slightly at her voice and turned his full attention back to the conversation. “How old are you, really? And how did you travel? How did you get aboard the train?”

“Guess.”

“My dearest Doctor,” Ileana chuckled, a fondness in her gaze that made him suddenly realize what everyone had been automatically assuming. He blushed, he was certain if he were to look, from the tips of his ears to the tips of his toes and quickly scooted farther along the bench to out as much space between them as possible. Blast this face. 

“Yes, soon it will be light,” he said quickly, making a show of looking outside. “And still no sign of your friend Stubbe.”

“Oh, he’ll find us Doctor,” she muttered with a huff. He could tell she was at once disappointed with the sudden distance and equally as unperturbed in her quest to gain his attention. Unfortunate, that. “He’s always hunting. Angry, hungry. Stubbe is centuries old and he has a hundred appetites.” 

“Sounds like a bad case of worms to me,” the Doctor quipped in an attempt to lighten the mood. She flashed a small smile. “I knew I should have gone for Turlough.”

“And _I _have a pack of lone wolves to face. The only way to make a stand against Pieter is to work together.” She grimaced before raising her voice. “Inez! Get a move on! It’ll be new moon before we get there!” 

~§§~

_“Hey, mum. Just wanted to tell you I’ve decided to check out what this big gathering is about after all. Met a guy who got lost traveling there, figured if I was gonna guide him back I might as well tag along.”_

“Do you often speak to your mobile phone?” Turlough asked. Rose sighed.

“I’ve had this for about a century and a half,” she explained. “Know it inside and out, what parts it needs, everything. Only thing I have left of my old life. Saved voice messages from 2005 from my mum, a few from my best mate... phantom ties to a family long gone. What about you? Why’re you up?”

“I got cold,” he said with a shrug. “Woke up and you’d... changed... back. Figured I might as well get around so I’ll be ready to go by light.”

“You seem awfully interested in the moon,” Rose commented. Turlough raised an eyebrow, amused. 

“You’re one to talk.” He then sighed, gaze fixing on the silvery disk. “I was thinking about the forests, where I come from.” A slight chuckle escaped his lips when Rose scooted closer; it really was refreshing to be able to talk about different planets with someone who didn’t know a lot about them. Tegan had been too uninterested, Nyssa to superior in comparing their respective cultures, the Doctor... well, there wasn’t really anything wrong with the Doctor Turlough supposed, but after spending the first few weeks trying to kill him on behalf of the Black Guardian they really weren’t in a touchy-feely place. This was... nice.

“Don’t keep me in suspense,” Rose needled. “Come on, give.” 

“Where I come from, the forests are three times as tall,” Turlough obliged, wistful with nostalgia. “The leaves, they’re these thick, fleshy plates you can walk on. In spirals, right up to the top of the canopy! All mauves, purples. With blood red trunks. And, after winter, when the suns first get warm... there a swarms of moths. They’ve got wings like- like cut sapphires, and they blot put the white sky like glittering blue smoke...”

“You miss it.”

“Maybe I do. What gave me away?”

“You sound like I do when I talk about growin’ up in London. Can’t you get back?”

“Not at the moment, no. Not the Doctor’s fault either, it’s something I did- or my dad did, I just went along with it like a dutiful son.” Turlough sighed, shoulders slumping. “I’ve got this- this _dark side _that always comes out to hurt people. People who get too close. I’m not reliable, either. Don’t even trust myself. And given the choice, I always prefer the dark where no one can see me. And they don’t know _who _or _what _I really am.”

“I left to protect my family,” Rose explained with a sour look on her face. “Jimmy, my ex, he would’ve ripped out my mum’s throat with his fangs to convince me to mate with him. So I left. And something got twisted up inside, these past 180 or so years. I’m not who I was. Damaged goods, me.”

“Rose, no, don’t think that!” Turlough exclaimed, grasping her hands in his own. “You’re clever, and funny, and compassionate. You didn’t have to look after me, and you’re still here. You even kept me warm during the coldest part of the night. You’re not damaged goods.”

“And you’re quiet, and homesick, and afraid people will turn you away if you say the wrong thing,” Rose countered. “See, bad things happen to good people, and if they happen over and over again those good people start thinking they’re bad. And if you’re wondering how I can tell you’re good, ‘s easy. You care that you have a dark side. If you were bad you’d look on those things as your strengths.”

Turlough smiled, ice blue eyes brimming with gratitude, as his grip on her hands tightened. When she stiffened he looked around.

“What is it?”

“It’s gone too quiet,” she muttered, biting her lip. Her pupils dilated, the gold-flecked whiskey almost dark as obsidian, as the howl of a wolf pierced the air. Slowly, with even movements, she reached for her tattered satchel and pulled out a hunting knife. “Turlough, take this. It’s silver. I keep it on me to deal with these mutts.”

“But won’t this hurt you?” 

“Yeah.” The chuckle she gave was mirthless and cold, and the smile she flashed was 10 times more predator than reassuring as Turlough got a good look at her abnormally sharp canines. “Mutually assured destruction. But whatever happens, stay behind me. I’ll rip them apart before I let them - any of them - at you. Got it?”

“Yeah,” Turlough muttered, hands shaking terribly as he gripped the hilt of the knife and pointed it toward the direction the noise had originated from. 

~§§~

“Victor, don’t fret,” Ileana urged. She had flinched at the howl echoing over the desert, had seen the raw fear in the Doctor’s eyes as he went over every bad scenario involving the fate of his friend. Laying her hand on her son’s head as he shifted restlessly in his sleep, she murmured a soothing hum. “What about a story, hm? Your favorite, the one about the Old Wolf Woman of the Forest. 

_And one day, an old, old Wolf came to her, with icicles in his fur. His name was Winter. And he begged her to hide him, for a young Wolf called Spring was driving him out of the wood. So she took him into her den, and hid him away. All year long, her den was cold as ice. And snow piled up on the inside of her door. But she put on a coat and kept him safe. _

Just like I keep you safe, dearest Victor,” she sighed. He growled softly.

“Mother...” he murmured, voice deep and gravelly with his form. He was drifting in and out of consciousness now.

“It’s all right Victor,” Ileana whispered soothingly. “Mother’s here. Now sleep... Just sleep...” When he was back under she looked up at the Time Lord sitting nearby with an indescribable look on his face. “It’s working, Doctor. I knew it would. I knew Hayashi’s medication would work.”

“I’m glad he’s getting better, but I doubt it’s the drugs that are improving his condition,” he told her honestly as he swallowed. 

“What do you mean?”

“More likely... it’s the lack of them.” They both started as the transport rocked violently, a rumble emanating through the Earth.

“What was that!?” Ileana barked, eyes wide with fear. “Inez!”

“An explosion!” The Doctor retorted worriedly. “Must be somewhere up ahead!” 

“The ranch!” 

~§§~

“Tall, aren’t they?” Turlough whimpered. Rose didn’t respond. She was standing between him and the pack, her eyes shining with the golden burning heat of a million suns as her canines elongated into sharp fangs. Her teeth were bared, her posture tense, as she was ready to transform at a moment’s notice. “You know, fighting might not be the answer. Someone once told me that to stop the wolves you throw the baby out of the sledge.”

“Yeah? Who told you that, your granddad?” Her voice was barely recognizable. Not because it was deep or gravelly, but because an odd overtone of dual layering was reverberating through it like charged energy. 

“Have to wonder sometimes,” Turlough sighed. “Do you really think you can hold back so many?”

“They’re scared of me, even with numbers.” One of them got bolder than the rest, starting forward, and she growled. It echoed through the air like thunder and he stepped back. “See?”

“...In all fairness, you are quite terrifying right now even if I know you won’t hurt me,” Turlough admitted. More of them came forward and Rose shifted entirely. Unlike the Wolves surrounding them that were only partially-shifted, still on two legs, she was fully shifted on all fours. The light of the fire caught her honey-gold fur and seemed to make it glow like the sunrise only just gracing the horizon with its presence and she backed farther away from their would-be attackers, forcing Turlough up against a set of prickly bushes that effectively made it impossible for anyone to get to him without passing by her first. 

Rose lashed out when one got too close, fangs sinking deep into the other’s neck, and tugged. It yelped and squirmed as blood poured from its neck, shifting back to human form and slinking away to tend to his wounds.

“Oh, he’s human!” Turlough exclaimed. “Oh, I _hate _this planet!” He shuddered as he heard Rose’s voice answer telepathically in his head, but unlike Anton or Jorge she felt nice. She forced nothing, she was simply there, and he relaxed slightly at the presence. 

_Feeling’s mutual sometimes. Now, don’t drop the knife._

“Wasn’t planning on it.” He struck out with the blade as another approached, watching Rose’s flank as she snapped at the heels of a large coal-black brute whose fur was as disheveled as his attack had been sloppy.

_They’re no pack._

“What do you mean?”

_A pack would attack as one, together. These are lone Wolves looking to hurt something, they aren’t united. _

Almost as quickly as the would-be pack had come, they pulled back. Up on the hill, a large (larger than any of the others) fully-shifted grey wolf padded toward them with bared teeth. 

“It’s him,” Turlough panted. “He’s here for me!”

_Maybe, but I’ll give him something to remember, _Rose growled determinedly. _The Grey One will feel the heat of the stars coursing through his veins once I get my fangs into him. Run. The others won’t be far behind once they smell blood from their prey. _

Not waiting for another order, Turlough took off running. The Grey One immediately gave chase, crying out when Rose barreled into his side and yelping when she pulled hard on his tail. He bit down on her ear and pulled until he heard something tear, and then he gripped her by the scruff and threw her to the dusty ground. Before she could get back up, the pack were upon her and the Grey One had taken off after Turlough. 

Without hesitation, she confronted the pseudo-pack and made sure they howled the pain she put them through. She was a Luna, and she would hold that title with pride against a bunch of mongrels yipping at one another’s heels. 

~§§~

“Gone!” Ileana exclaimed as they climbed out of the vehicle. The Doctor surveyed the catastrophe as buildings burned. “The whole ranch, blown away!” 

“Don’t get too close,” he warned. The structures were still in the process of collapsing and spouting huge flames into the sky.

“Señora-“ Inez began hesitantly, only to be ignored as her mistress succumbed to grief.

“Federico built it for us, for Victor and me!” She sobbed. 

“Señora-“

“Let me be!”

“Ileana,” the Doctor said sharply. “What about the others?” The tone of his voice was clear. _Pull yourself together, there are people depending on you_. 

“They should have been here,” Inez replied worriedly. “Tino should have been here, along with twenty more waiting for the Señora!” 

“We should look for any survivors, perhaps you and Jorge...” he turned back to the Señora with a grimace. “Ileana, I’m sorry.”

“He did this,” she hissed. “Pieter Stubbe. The shadow, as you say, Doctor, got here before us!” 

“Does he really hate you so much?” The Doctor asked, feeling all too much as if he were missing something crucially important. 

“He’s Pieter Stubbe!” She shouted. “He _revels _in hatred! He never changes!” 

“Señora!” Hayashi called out as the truck with the equipment finally arrived. “What’s happened?” 

“Did you know this, Hayashi?” Ileana snarled. “Have you _spoken to him!?_”

“To who?” Hayashi stuttered, and the Doctor’s eyes narrowed. The man really was a terrible liar. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ileana?” The Time Lord said softly, unease brewing in his chest as he took in the tenuous control she had over her emotions - and thus her darker nature. 

“How did he know where we were going?” She said coldly, taking slow steps toward the other man. “How did he know my vid link code?”

“I’m here to cure your son-“

“Señora-“

“Liar!” Her eyes flashed. “I’ll tear your throat out!”

“_Ileana!_” The Doctor broke in sharply, flinching back as something decidedly not human crossed her features. “Look!”

“They’re all here,” Inez breathed, shoulders sagging in relief as the entire party crested the top of a nearby hill.

“They’re all monsters!” Hayashi exclaimed, clearly not knowing what was best for him.

“No, they’re all _Wolves_,” the Doctor corrected with an eye roll. “Stay by me, and whatever you do, don’t move suddenly.” 

“Ah... sisters and brothers!” Ileana said, throwing her shoulders back as she donned a mantle of authority and turned to address the masses. “I feared that this disaster had overtaken us! But you have answered my summons! Thank you all! We have much to speak of!” Soft growling greeted her reply and she swallowed, unease replacing the confidence in her expression. “What is it? Anton, is that you skulking back there? Why are you back so soon?”

“Is this Herr Lichfuss?” The Doctor asked softly, leaning toward Hayashi who leaned back.

“In his true shape, yes.” 

“What’s he carrying?” Ileana muttered, eyeing the thing that he had clamped in his mouth. It squirmed, furious, and seemed to be covered in blood. On that note, most of the assembled Wolves had moderate to severe injuries and the ones that didn’t, the rare few, still sported cuts and probable bruises. 

“Well, it’s not Turlough,” the Doctor breathed softly, relieved. 

“Is this for me?” Ileana barked as Lichfuss proudly spit his catch onto the ground. She was up on her feet in an instant, baring her teeth in a feral display as her eyes flashed, and Lichfuss yelped as she rounded on him in fury. 

“A token of my devotion,” he retorted in a deep, gravelly voice. 

“I’m no one’s _token, _you spiteful little _Omega!_” The girl snapped. “And I’m _not _a gift for your would-be lover who is no more turned on by you than a disconnected _light bulb!_” 

He quite liked her, the Doctor decided. She had spirit. 

“She killed Mr. Talbot before I could get to them,” Lichfuss explained as he cowered behind a larger Wolf nearby. “As such, she is yours to deal with as you please!”

“I was _defending myself _when you stalked my _camp, _minding my own business, because none of you want anything to do with me to begin with! I’m not in the wrong, mate! That’s all you!” 

“A Star Wolf has no place among us,” Ileana snarled. “You should not have brought her here.”

“Not unless you want to keep your _tail,_” Rose snapped. Her eyes sparkled with golden light ever so briefly before she stepped away from the circle of Wolves and stalked toward the only people who seemed vaguely friendly. Her nostrils flared ever so slightly as she eyed the Doctor up and down, and ignoring the others as they shrank away from her she came to stand by her side with her arms crossed over her chest and a scowl on her face. “Hey.”

“...Hello...?”

“I sent you to find Turlough, where is he!?” Ileana ordered. Lichfuss shrugged.

“You’ll not see that little _skunk _again.” 

“Why? What’s happened to him?” The Doctor asked sharply, entire body tensing as the words he’d dreaded to hear were made corporeal. 

“Ah... this is him, brothers and sisters! This is the latest Cutclaw she grants her favors to!” Lichfuss proclaimed, practically prancing before the congregation. 

“You’re the Doctor?” The strange girl asked. The Time Lord glanced at her and nodded. “I was protecting him, told him to run, but the Grey One chased after him.” Her expression softened as she placed a hand on his arm. “‘M sorry. I fought hard as I could, but that- that stupid little _Schnauzer_ hit me with a rock.” Her last words were directed solely at Lichfuss, who lost some of his confidence when she turned to glare at him. 

“They Grey One!?” Ileana snapped. Her gaze was dark and deadly as she grabbed the girl’s arm. “You will tell me all you know. Now.”

“Oh, _now _you want to talk to me,” the newcomer snarled. Her eyes burned bright, glowing gold again as she bared her teeth at Ileana, who quickly let go of her arm with wide eyes. “Don’t try that on me, _Poodle_. You’re not the only Luna here.” 

“Tell me.”

“Bite me.” 

“This _Doctor _is supposed to have helped the Señora’s son,” Lichfuss broke in, addressing those assembled moreso than Ileana herself. He paced. “Is he Wolf, born and blooded? Is he stronger than me? If I challenge him, will he face me tooth and claw?” The last bit, he turned to deliver specifically to the Time Lord. “Will you, _Doctor?_ Well?”

“Well, Doctor?” Ileana asked softly, breath catching in her throat as she waited eagerly for his reply. The Doctor sighed.

“You’re wasting your time, Lichfuss. There are greater threats to your people.” The showmanship was easily apparent as Lichfuss prowled arrogantly in the informal circle.

“He is too weak to face me! Ileana, by our laws, and with no other challenge, I claim you as my mate!” 

“I belong to no one!” Ileana shouted, pallor coloring an impressive shade of red as she snarled and ignored the howling of the other Wolves. The girl snorted, shook her head, and walked back over to stand by the Doctor.

“Typical,” she muttered under her breath. “They’re all no better than dogs in heat, the lot of them.” 

“Ileana!” A voice called over the hill, and the entire group went still. 

“Is this him?” The Doctor asked Inez softly. 

“The Grey One,” she whispered, terrified. “The oldest and fiercest of our kind!” 

“Oh, that’s all we need...” the Doctor groaned as he plastered on a smile that didn’t remotely reach his eyes and turned toward the huge Grey Wolf approaching them. “Pieter Stubbe. I didn’t realize how tall you’d be.” He was seriously wishing he had back his extra four inches of height and the broadness in shoulders of his last body, the one with the teeth and curls. Might make a slight difference at present. Or possibly his third body. That one was almost as tall and had the benefit of broad(ish) shoulders and Venusian Aikido on his side. 

“Pieter...” Ileana gasped, eyes wide with terror. The Wolf chuckled darkly as he prowled into the group. 

“Your heyday is long past Ileana, but I but you a Uh... present, anyway.” And with that he promptly regurgitated a traumatized (and gunk-covered) Turlough onto the ground. 

“Turlough!” The Doctor called, beginning to walk over. He was stopped by a strong hand in the center of his chest.

“Stay here,” the girl who had put Ileana in her place said softly. “I’ll go.” She walked over and bent down to look Turlough over, not even so much as grimacing as he wrapped his bile-covered arms around her and hugged tight.

“I don’t want your _presents, _Pieter!” Ileana snapped. “What have you done to my home?” 

“Don’t take it then,” Pieter muttered. “Stuck in my throat too long. Never tasted worse.” 

“Turlough, it’s me,” the Doctor murmured as he came to kneel by Rose’s side.

“Doctor...”

“Shh. Don’t- deep breaths, long breaths.” He noted how the strange girl seemed to be instinctively rubbing circles over the redhead’s shoulders and up back to help stimulate his breathing and nodded. “Thank you.” 

“Who is this?” Pieter asked, interested.

“Doctor, come back!” Ileana called frantically. Pieter raised an eyebrow (such as he could in his current form) and snickered. 

“Ah. I was told I had a rival.” 

“Stubbe,” the Doctor replied coolly. “What big eyes you have.” 

“They see nothing in you, that’s plain.”

“Oh, how very kind. You also have the digestive system of a _power shovel_.”

“Ileana, this one stinks of sanctimony. Like those abbots and friars we devoured on our way to Rome.” He laughed. The Doctor opened his mouth to say more when the girl interrupted him.

“Hey Petie, how’s your tail? Still hanging off your butt by a thread?” The Wolf growled at her. She just smirked in return and went back to attending Turlough. 

“The Doctor has my protection,” Ileana growled. “By our laws, he is in my keeping.” 

“We’ll see.” He made a show of looking around. “Well, quite a crowd. Maybe they can see us off.” 

“I’m not going anywhere-“

“Oh yes you are. You’ll come back with me, and we’ll see how soon you put a stop to your Cutclaw pretensions.”

“Stubbe!” Lichfuss growled possessively. “Stand away from her. She’s mine.”

“Ileana!” Pieter tutted. “Another rival. How you must have missed me. You change lovers as a _whore _changes petticoats.”

“I won’t go back!”

“You’re _old, _Stubbe,” Lichfuss challenged. “Your legendary days are past. Get back to the Old World where you belong.” Pieter just smiled.

“Oh, come closer and say that. My ears are not what they were.”

“Especially after I got done chewin’ on ‘em,” the mysterious girl crowed. The Grey One huffed as the Doctor raised an eyebrow at her, to which she simply shrugged and provided no other answer. 

“I _said_, _Old Wolf_, that it’s time to let young blood have its head!” Lichfuss snapped as he came nearer. Pieter chuckled before he moved fast as lightning and had Anton’s head completely within his jaws. He snapped them closed in the span between two heartbeats, a sickening crunching sound seeming to echo through the desert. The crowd burst into disarray, and the Doctor took the time to get Turlough farther away. 

“Up you come,” he whispered. “Lean on me. I’ve got you. It’s not far, come on.” With the girl’s help, they were able to easily take him over to the truck that had all of the equipment in it. “Now, just stay in here all right?”

“What am I _covered in!?_” He whimpered, groaning as he rubbed at his face. “My eyes, they sting...” 

“I’m sorry,” the girl murmured, wrapping her arms around herself. Turlough merely waved her off. 

“No, Rose. You did the best you could. Gave me your silver knife and all, and last I saw of you you had an entire pack snapping at your heels.”

“Other way around actually,” she chuckled. The Doctor blinked, stunned, when Turlough actually smiled at that. 

“Excuse me, I’m afraid we haven’t been properly introduced,” he began. “I’m the Doctor.”

“Rose Tyler. Pleasure to meet ya.” 

“Yes, most...” he trailed off as she accepted his handshake with a grin that had a flash of pink tongue caught in her teeth and blinked. The faintest flash of her timelines. They were long, so long, and so bright and complicated and absolutely entrancing the way they danced through time and space. “...charming...” he shook himself out of it when the sound of a howling chant echoed outside. “They’re busy again. Oh, this has got to stop. Stay here, and don’t move!”

“No, Doctor!” Turlough protested, accepting the flannel Rose handed him and swiping it across his face as the door opened and closed again. “Don’t do anything stupid!”

“I’ll look after him,” Rose promised as she followed him out. 

“Thank you...”

Once outside, Rose took the opportunity to scrutinize Turlough’s friend more carefully. His scent was intriguing, like nothing she’d ever smelt before, and it was all too easy for her to hear the sound of his twin hearts. He wasn’t bad to look at either, with his somewhat shaggy and mussed sandy blond hair and shining, expressive blue eyes. His bone structure was slighter than anyone else present, lithe runner’s muscles subtle in their toning but present in the way he carried himself. Decent height, probably an even 6’0” if she had to guess. He had the appearance of someone in their late twenties to early thirties though she knew better from what Turlough had told her, and when he spoke she caught a glimpse of slightly crooked white teeth. While stressed, his English accent in his tenor voice was still soft and cultured and he spoke with a confidence born of experience rather than birthright. All in all not half bad. He seemed decent too, helping people who had done nothing more to him than kidnap him and drive his friend from a train simply because it was the right thing to do.

Rose raised an eyebrow as she took in his profile in the light of very early dawn, smirking slightly. Nice person, nice smile. 

“Three for three,” she muttered to herself, admiring his bum shamelessly. The Doctor had been walking across the ground when he stopped and turned, raising an eyebrow when he realized she’d been looking at him in a not-so innocent way. She winked and inclined her head toward the ruckus. He sighed and started moving again. 

“Quiet, you rabble!” Stubbe barked. “I’m sick of your commentary!” They quieted and he laughed as he turned to Ileana, laughing. “You see? They know their _king_. Just the instinct to stay alive makes them cheer in all the right places.”

“Never could accept _charm _when _terror _would suffice,” Ileana snapped. “Poor, stupid Anton...”

“Not much for your string of peccadillos. My strength remains implacable. Age and enforced abstinence only make it stronger, my long lost love.” Rose glanced at the Doctor and watched fascinated, as she literally saw the pieces fall into place in his expression. “I’ll cut out every rival.”

“They were lovers,” she whispered so softly the words barely got out of her mouth, leaning against his shoulder to be certain he heard them. A hum of acknowledgement rumbled in his check and barely vibrated against her back before she pulled a respectable distance away. 

“Señora, please!” Hayashi called. Ileana rolled her eyes.

“Go away, Hayashi!” 

“But the Doctor! He’s taken Turlough!”

“To a safer location snake,” Rose muttered.

“I’m right here Ileana,” the Doctor sighed, shooting a glare at the other man as he walked back to the Señora. 

“Turlough is under my protection,” Rose announced as she walked forward and leaned against the nearest object that would support her weight, crossing her arms over her chest. “Whether he was a _gift _or no, you stole him from me by the laws of your people Pieter. If I wish to take him away, I will. And I challenge anyone here to stop me, after the beating you took an hour ago.” She smirked when she was met with whimpers and glares. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Hayashi, you already know Pieter Stubbe I expect?” The Doctor asked with an innocent, charming quality about it. He was smiling, and for once he didn’t have to fake it. The affect Rose was having on everyone was truly entertaining after being told how inferior he was for the last day and a half. 

“Do not touch me!” Hayashi spat, sputtering as he stepped as far away from everyone as he could. “I’m in the pay of the Señora!” 

“Pieter, has he spoken to you too?” Ileana questioned sharply. Pieter rolled his eyes. 

“At tedious length,” he sighed. 

“See?” The Doctor chirped. “Hayashi likes to cover his options. Sell his own grandmother if he was offered a good price.”

“Oh grandmothers,” Pieter broke in. “Oh, I had my fill of those long ago.”

“And what about his patent cure for lycanthropy, did he tell you about that?” The Time Lord asked, the only sign he had registered Stubbe’s comment being a slight tightening of his jaw. The smirk was wiped off of Stubbe’s face immediately to be replaced by something infinitely more dangerous.

“No, he did not.” 

“What!?” Ileana exclaimed, rounding on the man. “Hayashi!?”

“Well, ah yes,” he stuttered. “It’s true! I’ll prove it! Your son, he’s already recovering!”

“Only because the Doctor stopped your medication,” she snapped. 

“But it’s _my _breakthrough!” The little man protested, misreading the situation entirely. “I can end your suffering forever! The Doctor is deliberately hampering my research!” 

“Oh, only hampering? Pity. I’d gladly wind it up for good! Ileana’s people have their own age-old customs and laws Hayashi, and your research is nothing more than _genocide!_” The Doctor retorted. “I’ll fight it. You just watch me. I’ll defend _every _right of the Wolf people not to be cured!”

“And I’ll support you Doctor,” Ileana agreed, moving to stand beside him. Rose tilted her head to the side and studied them, biting back a chuckle. Oh, was he clueless.

“Señora!” Hayashi protested. “This man is a charlatan-“

“How you prattle!” Stubbe laughed. The Wolves encircling them had begun to pace, perhaps recognizing that there was a possibility of Cutclaw on the menu for breakfast, though they remained dutifully silent. “I’ve had fleas with more sense. I am the oldest of the firstborn. Born out of the _slime _of the deluge. Time’s byways are mine to prowl and hunt, and all other Wolves are my progeny! Humans were raised as my cattle. A right I should have taken long ago, even for those who deny our heritage.” 

“I’ll not come back to you Pieter, I’m no longer your consort,” Ileana retorted dismissively before refocusing on Hayashi. 

“Human affectations,” Stubbe sighed. “I’ll take you anyway.”

“You will not.”

“But how can you resist?” If Rose hadn’t known better, she would have said he was purring. Ileana turned almost as if against her will, to face him. The hand the Doctor put on her shoulder would do nothing. “You’re mine, Ileana. And no one can change that.” 

“Pieter Stubbe,” the Doctor spoke up. His voice was commanding, a band of steel vibrating authority with each word, and Rose’s ears perked slightly as she watched with interest. He had no idea what he was getting himself into, did he? Turlough had described him with a sense of awe more as a hero than anything else, and she raised an eyebrow as she watched something else entirely.

“Universe’s dumbest genius,” she snickered softly under her breath. Not that she was complaining. It was actually really endearing, in a kicked puppy sort of way. 

“Doctor?” Ileana questioned. 

“Stand away from her, Stubbe. She’s no longer yours!” The Doctor ordered. He had stalked away from Ileana to the middle of the circle of Wolves and was ignoring their snarls as he locked eyes on the Old Wolf. “Time’s left you far behind and you’ve lost its scent. You’re burned out! So just give up and go back to the _slime _you crawled out of!” 

“You’re such a fool!” Hayashi snickered, only to whimper when Ileana snapped at him. 

“Is this a challenge?” Stubbe laughed. He sniffed, almost as an afterthought, and grinned ferally as he slowly walked toward the other man. “What is this? He’s no champion. He’s like that foul-tasting boy, he’s not even human.”

“I’m the Doctor,” he said. His tone was even, calm, and hard. His soft accent smoothed out the rough edges and made it sound all the more self-confident. He blinked, and Rose drew in a sharp breath when she saw eternity in those soft blue depths. They burned with the fire of eternity and the flames of a thousand lifetimes. “And I’m offering Ileana _my _protection. I’m stronger, more worthy, than any puny human _or _Wolf!” 

And, in that moment as Stubbe howled his snarled anger, Rose decided something. He would be under _her _protection. There was no one more deserving of it, even if he himself thought otherwise. She would come between him and danger as often as he would let her, starting right now. The fight was his, but should Stubbe knock him down she would block the Old Wolf’s path to its prey with her own body. 

“Doctor,” Ileana said with a quiver in her voice, “before all of us, do you accept the law implicit in your challenge?” 

“If I don’t make a stand you, _your people_, will be swept aside by this... _monstrous _anachronism,” the Doctor retorted, clearly not understanding the implicit law in the slightest but doing what he always did, which is what needed to be done because it was right. 

_Bless, _Rose thought as she waited for the other shoe to drop. 

“So be it!” Ileana said with a nod. “From now Doctor, I take you as my champion!” The Time Lord’s expression changed as he realized he hadn’t read the fine print.

“What? Now, just a minute-“

“And if you prove worthy, and truly faithful, then I take you as my husband! And rejoice in it!” The Wolves of the circle all lifted their heads as they howled in unison, and the Doctor stared at Ileana incredulously. His pallor was now ashen at the prospect of having accidentally proposed, mouth slightly agape as he gawked, and Rose snickered softly into her hand.

“And there’s the other shoe,” she sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While it would have been easier (and possibly more interesting for New Who fans) to write Rose into the rewrite almost as soon as feasibly possible I wanted to give the members of my audience not as familiar with the Fifth Doctor time to see him on his own without Rose, so that you know the base I am starting with before doing my little alterations for the AU. The same can be said of Rose, because her character is a bit different from how she was in the show. I feel it is very important for you to know that, and to assure the Classic Who fans that I’m serious about writing as in-character as possible with the allowance of my plot line. I love Peter Davison’s Doctor and Billie Piper’s Companion and just wish that the two of them could be combined together. So that’s what I did.
> 
> EDIT: For the love of God someone please tell me you got the joke made here:
> 
> “Poetic license, really. In real life, [Cleopatra] had all the subtle whit of a carpet beater.” He smiled at his own joke, which was either ignored or unnoticed by his audience, and his cheerful visage crumbled a tiny bit.


	4. Loups-Garoux IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final part of the Big Finish Audio Story Loups-Garoux. Special thanks to Marc Platt for a truly stupendous storyline, Doctor Who is made all the better because of you. 
> 
> The only problem I have with Louis-Garoux is that changing Rosa into Rose drastically alters the ending. Those of you who are familiar with this story, I hope you like what I did with it. 

“Doctor, what are you doing now?” Turlough muttered as a cacophony of howls started up and penetrated the exterior shell of the truck. “You don’t stand a chance against that lot... car keys...” he frowned slightly as he began digging around for them, suddenly a man on a mission. “Must be some sort of ignition.”

He froze as heavy growling started up and swallowed as the head of a Wolf slowly raised up from a piles of blankets directly next to him.

“Who are you?” A deep, groggy voice asked. “Where’s my mother?”

“Victor,” Turlough breathed. “Your uh, your mother’s not here. Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I’m cold without my coat,” the man - and he was slowly turning back to a man even as they spoke - snarled impatiently. “Where is she?” 

~§§~

“She set you up Doctor, I’ve never seen a bridegroom so reluctant,” Stubbe taunted. The Doctor made a considerable effort to pull himself together and turned sharply to address his opponent. 

“If it stops you then- then- yes,” he bit out, the words tasting sour on his tongue. “Yes, I’ll do it.”

“You think you’re stronger than me!? Are you worthy Doctor, truly worthy of her!?” 

“Don’t fail me Doctor, I trust you,” Ileana called from the side of the impromptu fight circle. Rose rolled her eyes and stalked over. 

“Look lady, you’re a Luna,” she hissed softly enough that no one else could hear. Her voice was seething with anger. “Maybe you should be fighting your own battles instead of letting a bunch of lower-rank males claim you, letting that _thing _claim you,” she snapped. “I let that happen once, and now I’ve got claws.” Ileana glared sharply at the perceived upstart and then turned her back on her. Rose growled in frustration and paced to the edge of the ring once again, poised to shift at a moment’s notice. 

“My, Stubbe,” the Doctor said nervously, breath coming in pants as fear started getting the better of his autonomic functions, adrenaline flooding his body. He backed slowly away from his enemy as they circled one another in a loop. “What a wide, big... gaping... red mouth... you have...”

“Oh, better to crunch and gollup you down Doctor,” Stubbe snickered. 

“Really?” The Time Lord retorted, raising an eyebrow and feigning nonchalance to cover up how desperate he was. “Oh, but you wouldn’t, would you. I might be too spicy for your _jaded palate. _An unadventurous Earth-bound diet, you couldn’t even stomach poor Turlough! And you’ve already had a heavy day’s eating.”

“Ileana, what can he give you that I can’t raise a thousand-fold?” Stubbe scoffed. He was edging slowly nearer, toying with his prey, and they both knew it. 

“He gave me back my _son_,” she snapped.

“Oh, yes. Your son. How touching. It’s plain I left you alone too long.” 

“No, _I _left _you!_”

“The Cutclaws you love so much have run wild! They’ve trampled our forests to dust. But together, we’ll set it right! You heard the Cutclaws like the cattle they are, I’ll lay their cities at your feet! Let’s see your worthy champion do that!”

“Having Victor back is enough!” She wailed. Rose snorted, shifting entirely as Stubbe took a bolder step toward the Doctor. She went unnoticed in the background, prowling the edges. The others drew away when she passed by them, her scent exotic and so unlike theirs it smelled of danger. 

“Mother?” A voice called uncertainly. Everyone looked over to see a mostly-man and bile covered-Turlough approach the fringes of the group.

“Victor!” 

“Turlough, I told you to stay hidden,” the Doctor groaned.

“I didn’t think we had a choice.” He glanced over and spotted Rose’s golden pelt and smiled slightly despite the situation. “You have a plan?”

“All in good time.” 

“Look at the boy then,” Stubbe sighed amusedly, eyeing Victor more like a prospective meal than a fellow pack Wolf. “Not blooded yet?”

“Leave him alone!” Ileana snapped, stepping forward. 

“Mother?” Her son asked, still confused from the medication.

“Never mind.” 

“Doctor, join me!” Pieter suddenly called. “We have a common enemy!” The Doctor raised an eyebrow, immensely confused. 

“We have?” He asked, voice pitching upward slightly in question. 

“The greedy leech Hayashi. Let’s make sport with him!” The Time Lord’s expression cleared and he grimaced.

“Ah. No, Pieter. I fear I must decline.”

“Oh, come now. He’s insulted our mistress. Where is he?” The Wolves, sensing the bloodlust once again, were whipped into an eager frenzy. A couple of them cornered Hayashi and shoved him into the circle, the ring closing once again. He cowered in the edges. “There he is. Come here!”

“No!”

“_Come here!_” Stubbe thundered, and Hayashi obeyed with a glazed look in his eyes.

“I- I’m here, I’m here!”

“They can’t resist, they’re just reeling him in!” Turlough exclaimed, horrified as he stepped closer to the Doctor on reflex.

“They did the same to you,” he muttered darkly before raising his voice. “Ileana, you can stop this!”

“That man nearly destroyed Victor!” Ileana retorted, eyes going entirely pupil as her voice distorted. 

“Mother, I want to take him,” Victor growled as he began to look more Wolf-like again. He licked his jaws.

“What do you say, Doctor?” Stubbe cackled. It was a courtesy question, nothing more and barely even that. “What shall we give him? An hour? Half a day? Not too long, you see the others are getting _very _eager to kill.”

“Doctor!” Hayashi called, terrified. “Make them stop, I’ve done nothing wrong!”

“Hayashi, stay still!” The Doctor urged desperately. He was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet; there were too many hungry Wolves between him and the scared human. “Don’t give in to your instincts!”

“But I- I want to run!”

“Ileana you must stop this!” The Time Lord begged. 

“Leave Ileana to me!” Stubbe growled.

“Hayashi betrayed my trust!” Ileana growled, fur beginning to sprout over her body. 

“See?” The Old Wolf said smugly. “She can’t resist. None of them can. It’s in their nature, deep deep down.” The Doctor winced as he felt something malevolent on the edges of his telepathic shields, and too late he realized with mounting panic that Stubbe was able to use the other Wolves in the circle as an amplifier. Strong pressure slowly fractured the walls he had worked so hard to build and maintain over the centuries, and the wince turned to a pained grimace.

“Yours too, Doctor,” Pieter continued, his voice now strangely hypnotic with the added benefit of telepathic suggestion. “Join us!” The Doctor shook off the attack but could feel himself weakening.

“I will _not!_“ He protested, turning to his last source of help. “Ileana, fight the shadows!” 

A crack appeared in his defenses and he hissed at the pain it brought, missing what Ileana said in response but gathering by the way Stubbe laughed that her remaining allies, Inez and Jorge, were under the Grey One’s influence. 

“I bring out the night in everything!” The Old Wolf cackled. “Just do it! Unleash your heart’s darkest desires!” She was shifting more now, losing more and more control, and more cracks appeared in the Doctor’s telepathic shielding. 

“It’s true,” she rasped as her muzzle elongated and her ears pointed before turning into the ‘satellite dish’ shape. Her back was hunching slightly as she moved closer to the ground. “I want it!”

“Ah, I’d forgotten your coat was so _glossy_,” Stubbe sighed lasciviously as he was nearly drowned by the frantic clamor of the other Wolves. 

“Don’t listen Turlough,” the Doctor murmured, panting with the effort of maintaining clarity of mind. 

“I’m not,” Turlough sighed. His mind felt warm, as warm as his body had curled against Rose’s pelt in the cold of the desert night. She was protecting him. “I’m sticking with you.”

“You, Doctor!” Stubbe suddenly said, making eye contact. The Doctor froze, going rigid as he felt the last of his defenses crumble. “Tear off that pious mask. Let us see the darkness underneath!” 

“No, don’t look at him Doctor! Don’t look at his eyes. Doctor!” Turlough urged, worried as his friend’s pupils blew wide with a sudden inrush of adrenaline. 

“Doctor,” Stubbe growled, that hynotic quality intensifying. 

“It is an ancient mariner,” the Doctor mumbled barely coherently, hand to his head as he tried to drown out the influence with white noise as he quoted Samuel Taylor Coleridge. “And he stoppeth one of three. By thy long grey beard-“ 

“You’re no challenge to me Doctor.” 

“T- and gl- glittering,”

“Ah...”

“_And glittering eye,”_

_“_Run, Hayashi!”

“N-ow whe- ore, _stoppst _thou _me!” _He managed to finally bite out, collapsing onto his knees and clutching at his head in agony. Turlough knelt beside him, holding him up as best he could, and clinging frantically to the warmth protecting his mind. Hayashi screamed and ran, the Wolves snapping at his heels as he passed by and clearly itching to follow but staying due to their King’s command. Stubbe let loose a chilling howl that the others echoed, a howl in anticipation of the hunt, and the Doctor slumped hard against Turlough as he let out a soft whimper of pain. 

Warmth, like the rays of the sun, gently encircled his mind and he instinctively relaxed into the embrace as the darkness receded. Rose prowled forward and stood between him and Stubbe, hackles raised and fangs bared, her eyes burning gold and bright as a supernova.

«You might bring out the night in everything Old Wolf,» she growled in the tongue of all wolfkind, «but I rise with the dawn and bathe in the morning light. The Doctor is under my protection, he and Turlough both, and I will fight until my last breath going against any who dare attack those in my charge. Now leave. I cannot stop your hunt, but I can stop your games.» 

“Until next we meet, _my dear_,” Stubbe snarled in response before he surged forward with his pack and gave chase after Hayashi. 

“Doctor, we need to get out of here!” Turlough said urgently. The Doctor stiffened against his side, a growl escaping his throat, but he relaxed as Rose gave a soft telepathic caress and chased the last of the shadows out of his mind. “We have to get back to the TARDIS!”

“The TARDIS, yes,” he whispered hoarsely, hesitantly easing off of Turlough and rubbing vigorously at his temples. He opened his mouth and the beginnings of more poetry had begun tumbling from his lips before he spotted Rose and did a double-take. “Um. Who’s this?” He blinked as she shifted back into a human, eyes wide and eyebrows well into his hairline. “Oh.”

“She kept us safe,” Turlough explained. He dutifully helped the Time Lord to his feet; the poor man was examining the shambles of his mind and gazed in awe at the woman before him as he felt a warmth acting as a protective barrier where the shattered pieces of his walls had once so strongly stood.

“You’re- you’re in my head,” he breathed. Rose smiled softly, sadly, and shook her own head.

“Not really. I can’t see your thoughts, can’t influence them. My species doesn’t work like that. Not like _them_. I can just tell that you’re hurting, and that you feel exposed. I’ll shield you until you can build your defenses up again.”

“...Thank you,” he said quietly, swallowing. He accepted his overcoat from Turlough with a trembling hand and realized with a start that he was shaking uncontrollably from head to foot. “And Turlough, thank _you_. I am quite comfortable enough in my own coat.” As much to reassure himself as his companion he added, “Surely you know me... by now. Why, I’m no more aggressive than Alice’s white rabbit.”

“Yeah, and about as reliable a timekeeper,” Turlough replied with a soft smile. The Doctor’s brow furrowed slightly. 

“What?” 

“Something Tegan once said to me, is all.” The Doctor rolled his eyes.

“Did she? How reassuring,” he muttered sarcastically, shoving his hands deep into his trouser pockets to mask the tremors going through them. They began walking toward the trucks when a prolonged scream rent the silence in twain. “Hayashi... that settles it. Back to the TARDIS. Quickly.”

“They move fast!” Turlough pointed out, worry etching itself across the entirety of his features. “They’ll catch up!” 

“And I’ll be here when they do,” Rose muttered. The Doctor inhaled sharply at that and paused just long enough to look at her.

“I somehow doubt even you could stand against the entire pack _and _Stubbe at the same time,” he replied. He was neither consoling nor condescending, just blunt, and Rose nodded.

“I’d go down fighting if it meant you could get back to your ship. First time in my life I’ve ever done anything worthwhile with it.”

“I somehow doubt that-“

“I mean it. Nearly two hundred years old, me. And this is the first time it’s ever meant something.” 

“Are you all right?” He asked softly. She smiled brightly as she began walking again and he was forced to follow.

“I’m always all right.” 

“...Turlough, in response to your observation, Wolves don’t like being parted from the Earth,” the Doctor explained, slowly tearing a concerned stare away from Rose to properly address his companion. “The trucks have a hover function that we’ll be making liberal use of.”

“Oh.” A sudden thought struck Turlough, and he turned to Rose. “Will you be okay in that thing?” Both men raised an eyebrow when she let out a short chuckle.

“Mate, I was bitten by a Wolf from the stars. The entire time I’ve been stuck on this forsaken rock I’ve had this itch to get as close to them as possible. Air travel will be more than fine.”

“...Right,” the Doctor murmured. He slid into the driver’s seat of the nearest truck and smirked slightly when Turlough protested at Rose sending him into the back as she claimed the passenger seat, and once the engine was purring he eased it away from the ground. Rose hummed softly, rolling the window down to lean her head on the side of the car. Her hair whipped in the night wind, and she looked more content than she had before. 

With the time afforded by the flight to the train platform the Doctor took the time to scrutinize Rose’s appearance. Her makeup was scarce, more complimentary and natural than heavy and highlighting her youthful features. She looked like she was in her late teens to early twenties, he realized with a sickening feeling in his stomach, and had a rounded face. Whiskey brown eyes with golden flecks in them a little larger than average rested above a button nose, and her jawline was sharper than expected by the rounded softness of her face shape. She had full lips that she seemed to be constantly nibbling on (a habit he assumed she indulged when she was stressed), and there were puncture holes in her ears where she’d gotten them pierced for earrings she was no longer in the habit of wearing. Her face was framed by messy, wavy (and ever so slightly curly) honey blonde hair with darker roots and eyebrows, and there was a beat up metal charm tied into the bangs on the left side of her head. 

Her clothes were tattered; she was wearing a ripped and dirty cream sweater full of holes that was covered by a light olive green vest jacket that had seen better days. An even dirtier cream skirt with a v-slit that went all the way to the top of her left hip only just reached her knees and had a pair of ragged, hole-riddled black leggings underneath it. Her feet sported brown leather boots that looked as if the soles were about to fall off, and the only jewelry she sported was a scratched ring on her right index finger. Chipped black nail polish glinted in the poor lighting of a bloody sunrise. 

In short, she looked tired and feral. 

“You’re staring,” Rose said quietly. He blinked, then nodded, making no attempt to deny it.

“Yes. How long were you wandering the desert, if I might ask?”

“Forty years, subsisting entirely on quail and mana,” she replied promptly, snickering when he huffed in good-natured exasperation. “Dunno. Twenty, maybe. Why?”

“You certainly look it.”

“I don’t... do people, anymore,” she whispered, chewing on the side of a thumbnail and looking away. 

“Why not?”

“I might live on this planet, but I’m not a part of it,” she said simply. There was a long pause. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he glanced away from the path of the craft once again to take in her guilty expression. She squirmed in her seat and didn’t make eye contact.

“For taking so long to save you from Stubbe,” she murmured. “It was hard, breaking past his influence to get between him and you. Like wading through a pool filled with porridge.”

“You had to fight past him to get to me?”

“Yeah. ‘S difficult but not impossible.”

“What... what type of Werewolf are you then?”

“No idea.”

“Beg pardon?” He looked at her with wide eyes and she shrugged. 

“My ex. He bit me, turned out he wasn’t exactly from this planet. I refused to mate with him because he was- well for starters he didn’t ask permission first, and second he ruined my life, so I really had no incentive. But then he left me here when he went back to the stars, and I’ve been alone ever since. No idea what the rest of my kind are like, what we’re called, where our planet of origin is... I had to figure out all of the changes to my body on my own.” 

“A telepathic Wolf without a pack,” the Doctor breathed. His hearts clenched in sympathy; his own species were telepathic, and it had been ages since he’d had any proper (and positive) telepathic contact with any of his people. “Oh, Rose.”

“...Yeah.” 

“I don’t see them!” Turlough called suddenly from the back, startling them both. “Where are they!?” 

“Uh...” the Doctor frowned slightly as he scanned the landscape, but Rose beat him to it. 

“See that huge cloud of dust?”

“Yeah. Oh, is that them?”

“Yep.” 

“They’re not heading back to the ranch at all! Oh, they move so fast...”

“Stubbe obviously considers me less of a threat than I thought,” the Doctor muttered, not sure whether to be insulted or relieved by that. “Arrogant, really. Arrogant of _him._” He grimaced. “They’re heading for the cattle station and the train.”

“_And _the TARDIS,” Turlough pointed out warily. 

“Sorry? The what?” Rose asked, interested.

“My ship. It stands for Time And Relative Dimensions In Space.”

“So you’ve got a time machine that can take you anywhere and anywhen in the universe you please?” 

“Precisely.” The Doctor flashed her a small, tense smile. “You catch on quick.” Rose snorted.

“Name kinda gave it away,” she said, pointing out the obvious. She then sighed. “We need to stop Stubbe. He looks like he’s heading for Manaus.”

“Yes, I’d have thought he’d be heading toward Brazilia,” the Doctor reflected thoughtfully. 

“But, large city, one pack of Werewolves,” Turlough argued. He’d finally succeeded in sticking the upper half of his body through the now-open partition between the driver’s cabin and the back, leaning on the edge on his elbows. “Can’t do that much damage.”

“Turlough, I fought off a whole pack on my own,” Rose reminded him. 

“Yeah, but you’re... special...” the boy murmured, entire face going almost as red as his hair in embarrassment. The Doctor smiled, gaze fixed on the path before them. “Oh, no. They’re at the train already!”

“Hold tight, I’m trying to take her down.” The entire craft shuddered and Rose gripped the seat, her fingers digging deep into the upholstery and puncturing the surface to delve into the foam underneath. “This thing wasn’t built for maneuvers,” the Doctor complained. “Now, if this were a _Spitfire_-“

“Never mind you Edwardian Era fixation now,” Turlough chastised. “The train’s already moving, and we’ll never catch them.” 

“Spitfires don’t _belong _to the Edwardian Era Turlough,” the Doctor retorted irritably as he struggled to keep control of the craft. “That was 1901 to 1910. The Spitfire was developed in 1936.”

“The back carriage is detaching,” Rose said calmly through clenched teeth. Really, it was no skin off her nose if they crashed. It would just hurt. A _lot_. 

“Now how did that happen?”

“They’ve left it behind,” Turlough said excitedly. “The carriage with the TARDIS in it!” 

“Ileana,” the Doctor guessed. “She must have worked it out. That was very dangerous for her.” 

“She’s giving us a chance to stop them.” 

“But why though?” Rose asked, biting her thumbnail. “Doesn’t make much sense.” She suddenly smirked. “Unless she felt a sense of duty toward her fiancée.”

“Leave off,” the Doctor muttered, entire face heating in embarrassment as he brought the craft in to land as close to the carriage car as possible. 

~§§~

_“Señora, the Grey One is calling for you,” Inez said urgently, running through the train. _

_“Let him wait, Inez. I had to return that object to the Doctor.”_

_“The big blue box?”_

_“His scent led back to it. It must be important.” They both looked round, frightened, as Stubbe’s voice thundered through the cars. “Now, not a word Inez. It’s our only chance. You hear?” The girl nodded. _

~§§~

They climbed through the train car to the baggage section and Rose eyed the TARDIS skeptically as the Doctor unlocked it with his key.

“Your ship... is a police box?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. The Doctor nodded, smiling.

“Chameleon Circuit. Allows the ship to blend in wherever we go,” he said proudly.

“Yeah? So why’s it still a police box then?”

“I... landed in 1963, and it... broke,” he coughed. “But never mind that inside.”

“Kinda small.”

“Bigger on the inside,” he supplied with a smirk. He stood back to let Rose walk in first, heard her indrawn breath, and grinned. 

“When you said bigger on- I didn’t think you meant it was _dimensionally transcendental_,” Rose exclaimed. The two men glanced at each other in surprise.

“You studied the theories?” Turlough asked, impressed. Rose shrugged, absently running her hand along the edge of the silver console. She was busy taking in the smooth grey floor and white walls with the cream roundels set into them, which were emanating a soft light. 

“I studied anything that might get me away from this place and out where I belong,” she muttered. “Physics, astronomy, mathematics and technology...” she trailed off. “Never sat my A-Levels, look at me now.” 

“It’s quite the accomplishment,” the Doctor said with a soft smile as he approached the console and began inputting the coordinates to move and Turlough dutifully closed the door. His expression turned bemused as he let his mind sink into the bond between pilot and ship, her warmth and concern and security soothing his frayed edges, and he felt her almost immediate attachment to the newcomer. “Now that’s strange...”

“Oh, your ship is telepathic,” Rose gasped. “She’s alive...”

“Not really,” Turlough replied, eyeing her curiously. “Might seem that way sometimes, but-“

“No, she is, I can feel her trying to say hello,” Rose said stubbornly. She smiled ruefully at the Doctor, who simply gaped at her. “I don’t think we’re compatible enough for her to manage it though.” 

“She seems to be inordinately fond of you,” he stated contemplatively. Never mind, he’d have time to worry about that later. “Now, to Rio.” 

“What, does your box fly?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. He beamed at her for asking all the right questions.

“Dematerializes in one location and rematerializes in another, actually.”

“Like matter transference?”

“More like quantum teleportation due to entanglement with the Time Vortex.”

“...Right, I only understood about half of that,” Rose laughed as the short rotor chugged up and down, a wheeze perpetuating the air with thrumming anticipation. “No offense, but that sorta sounds like an asthmatic lawn mower.” Turlough laughed as the Doctor rolled his eyes in mock-affront, his primary focus on what he was doing with the controls. 

“Right, we’re on our way,” he said, stepping away from the controls and shoving his hands in his pockets. “Two of you should probably get cleaned up.”

“You should too Doctor,” Turlough replied with a smirk.

“Oh, what’s that?”

“If you’ve got a date, you gotta make an effort.” The scowl he got in response was priceless. 

“It’s not like that, Turlough.” The Doctor sighed tiredly. “Look, show Rose to one of the empty rooms, all right? I’m sure the TARDIS will have had one prepared for her.”

“Just think about it, Doctor,” Turlough teased. “Ileana won’t lift a claw to help you if you don’t look like you’re at least trying.”

“Leave ‘im alone Turlough,” Rose laughed, patting the Doctor’s shoulder as she walked past toward the door leading into the corridors. “Come on, I want to get this blood off of me.” 

The Doctor watched them go, shoulders slumping as he leaned against the console and rubbed tiredly at his temples. His mental shields were still a shambles, but with the TARDIS and Rose buffering his mind he felt he could piece them back together without too much effort. He really did need to change, though. He was covered head to foot in desert dust; it was in his hair, clinging to his jumper, smudging his skin. In short, he felt grimy. 

After waiting a few moments, he followed after his companion and their guest to enter into his room and sighed. It was bare of anything other than a desk covered in half-finished projects and a rarely-used bed, the walls the same white as the rest of the TARDIS interior and the carpet thin on his bare feet as he absently toed his trainers and socks off. Shucking his coat and pulling off his jumper he dumped both in the laundry hamper and proceeded to unclip his suspenders before shimmying out of his trousers and pants to get a quick rinse in the shower. 

The heat of the water and the soothing pressure of it on his sore muscles gave him ample time to tidy up his mindscape, and after the day he’d had he was in desperate need of it.

Rose had been led to a nondescript door by Turlough, who had said that he’d be by later after getting cleaned up himself, and now she was standing in a rather nice bedroom. It was sparse of any true personalization, but it seemed to fit her somehow. The carpet was plush beneath her feet, maroon in color, and the walls were a sandy golden-tan that led to a curved, domed ceiling. In the center the wall was broken by a thin ring of sandy coral; it looked organic, like it was a part of the ship, and she loved it. The light came from the ceiling where the Earth Sky was projected on it, the sun in its correct position for the time of day, and with a sharp breath Rose realized that it probably showed the stars and moon at night. The linens were a soft pastel gold with rich navy trim, and there was a fake window that simulated London when she was a kid. 

Shaking her head, Rose walked into the en-suite and smiled at the clean, modern fixings before shimmying out of her bloody clothes and into a hot shower. When she was finished she found that her clothes had disappeared from the floor, and curious she rested her hand on the nearest wall. Immediately, she felt the ship trying to reach out to her but failing despite her best efforts. Rose hummed a soothing encouragement when the ship seemed to get frustrated and walked into the main part of the room, noting her satchel was where she’d left it in the reading nook with the bare bookshelf and comfy-looking armchair. Another door caught her eye, and she gasped as she walked into a walk-in closet. 

The clothes were to her tastes, of numerous colors and kinds ranging from killer formal dresses to parkas to tank tops to bikinis, and Rose grinned.

“You trying to tell me something, girl?” She asked as she pulled on her underthings and slid a soft grey sweater on over her head before stepping into a pair of jeans and some steel-tipped boots. Lastly, she got a dark tan cargo vest and zipped it up partway before taking a cursory glance in the full-length mirror. “Because this tells me you want me to stay. Does it mean he might let me?” The TARDIS hummed happily and she laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes.” 

Turlough looked up from debating whether or not to put on a tie when he heard a knocking on the door; the handle turned and the Doctor poked his head in hesitantly.

“Don’t hover Doctor,” he said with a smile as he tossed the unwanted neckwear straight into the bin rather than the hamper. “Come on in.” The Time Lord nodded and did so, sitting stiffly on the end of Turlough’s bed.

“Hope I’m not bothering you.”

“Nah, not at all.” There was an awkward silence. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” the Doctor said a little too quickly. He frowned, cleared his throat, and started over. “Well. How did you resist Pieter Stubbe’s influence so easily?” He asked in a small voice.

“Rose protected me,” Turlough explained as he went hunting for his missing shoe. 

“Oh?”

“Mmhmm,” the redhead chirped distractedly, getting down on all fours to look under his dresser. “She’d done it before you see, out in the desert to keep me from the pack, and so it was easy for her to do it again later at the ranch.” A pause, followed by a triumphant exclamation as he re-emerged with his wayward shoe. “Also, I think he was more focused on you than on me. Made it easier for her to protect me than it was for her to try and protect you for the first time.”

“I see.” The Doctor flashed a strained smile and stood, walking to the door. He turned back when Turlough called for him.

“Doctor?”

“Hmm?”

“What are you getting yourself into? Ileana de Santos. I mean, she’s a Wolf.”

“She _chose _me,” he replied through clenched teeth. “And she gave me back the TARDIS.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you have to book a church and a honeymoon-“

“For the last time Turlough, it isn’t about that!” He snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose as he felt a tension headache starting. To his surprise it ended as quickly as it had started, and he was about to thank the TARDIS when he realized that Rose was still in his mind because his shields hadn’t been put back up yet. His ship hummed smugly in response to that realization and he fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Look, someone has to stop Stubbe. Whatever the cost, he’s a serious threat. And all because he feels he has to outdo me in a misguided attempt to win Ileana’s affections-“

“So it’s all your fault then,” Turlough summarized flatly. The Doctor winced, sighing.

“Isn’t it always? And that’s another thing.” He inhaled sharply, cheeks flushing ever so slightly, as he stuck his hands in his pockets and nervously rocked on the balls of his feet. “Ileana... well, I was wondering, because you and Rosa-“

“Wait wait wait,” Turlough exclaimed, holding his hands up and then laughing. “You think me and-“

“Well, women aren’t really my area, aside from Tegan and that hardly counts I think considering we argued more than we got along with anything, and Nyssa, but they were friends and I was responsible for them, and...” he sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed again. “Of course, Sarah Jane and Jo, Liz, Romana - both of her- and Leela, Zoe, Victoria, Dodo, Vicki, Barbara, Polly...”

“Susan?”

“Hmm?” He waved a hand dismissively. “Our relationship was always different, she was my granddaughter. The rest were my friends, but I can’t rightly claim to know much about women regardless...” the Doctor groaned, flopping backward onto the bed in a distinctly un-Time Lord-like manner. “Oh Turlough, sometimes I feel so very old...”

“And I’m supposed to know better?” Turlough chuckled softly, incredulous. 

“Everyone else noticed that Ileana was interested in me, except for me,” came the miserable reply. “You think on that for a few seconds and then tell me if you’re more experienced or not.”

“I guess I am more experienced,” Turlough decided as he grinned and got a baleful glare from blue eyes, “because you also thought I was interested in Rose and that couldn’t be farther from the truth. She’s nice, very nice, but- look, she’s about a century and a half, if not more, older than me. We don’t have any common interests as far as I can tell, and yeah she makes me laugh and feel good about myself, but from what I can tell she does that to anyone she decides to be friendly to. Now, the important thing is this: how do _you _feel about Ileana?”

“You’re getting needlessly personal,” the Doctor snapped, abruptly sitting up and pushing off the bed into a standing position. Turlough blocked the door, leaning against it with his arms crossed.

“Am I? This whole time, she’s never _once_ considered what _you_ want out of anything. It’s always been about _her_, and what _she_ wants. Now, if you don’t love her or want her then you shouldn’t have to let her force you into something you don’t want. Save her life, save the city, get rid of Stubbe I suppose if you have to, but don’t do something you’ll regret.”

“You know Turlough, I do believe you’re starting to grow up,” the Doctor murmured wistfully, a sort of sad pride dawning on his face. Turlough nodded and stepped away from the door. “And, thank you. I’ll... take what you’ve said under advisement.” 

“See that you do,” Turlough chided with a soft smile, turning to put on his shoe and hopping about to get at the laces.

Once out in the corridor, the Doctor sighed and leaned his back against the wall. He took a few moments to collect himself before walking toward the console room, but he didn’t get far before he spotted a white door with a golden rose carved into it. Raising an eyebrow and mentally asking his ship why this particular girl was so special to her (something which the TARDIS didn’t deign to give a response to), he hesitated a moment before knocking on the smooth wood.

“It’s open,” came the muffled response. 

“I was just wondering if you’d- found... everything... all right...” 

To put it quite simply, the Doctor was surprised. For a temporary guest, the TARDIS had done everything she could to make the room feel as much like a personal space as possible. And there was Rose, in an entirely new outfit that he most certainly did _not _remember ever seeing the components of in the wardrobe room, sitting at a makeup vanity applying some new makeup that he was _absolutely _certain had never been on his ship before simply for the fact that it came from the middle 21st century and none of his other companions had anything like that. 

“Your ship is an absolute sweetheart,” Rose commented happily as she did her eyeliner. “I’d run out a few days ago and she found the same thing for me.”

“Oh, a _sweetheart_,” the Doctor murmured skeptically, eyeing the ceiling with a grimace. The TARDIS sent him the mental equivalent of blowing a raspberry and he rolled his eyes. _Very mature_. 

“Mmhmm,” Rose chirped, swinging around on the seat with a smile. “Hey, you okay? You look all... tense.” 

“Just worried about Stubbe,” he replied quickly. Rose simply raised an eyebrow.

“Uh Huh. And Ileana?”

“I have no idea what I want to do about her,” he sighed, running a hand through the hair at the back of his head. “Turlough says that if I don’t love her I shouldn’t marry her, but what if she-“

“Ileana’s a spoiled poodle,” Rose cut in. “She takes and takes and treats everyone else like an underling. She’ll never respect you, even if you do say yes, and you’re worth more than that. _Everyone _is worth more than that. So. Do you love her?” The Doctor hesitated a moment before replying confidently. 

“No.”

“Then don’t marry her.”

“But we’ll need her help,” he stressed. Rose shook her head.

“If she can’t get it through her head that wanting something and not being able to have it has no place in how she works with people, letting her get away with it isn’t helping anyone, _especially _her. Either she compromises or we leave her to the Wolves. Literally. Some lessons have to be learned the hard way. Trust me, I _know_. I’ve made mistakes, and I’ve _paid _for it.” 

The Doctor blinked at her, for a few seconds seeing the teenager she had once been in the pain in her eyes, and nodded.

~§§~

The TARDIS landed in Rio to the charming cacophony of car alarms going off, the night air full of pollutants and crisp cool. They’d missed a whole day due to the TARDIS being unusually stubborn about short temporal hops and her Pilot was _not _amused. Rose stepped out first, wrinkling her nose at her surroundings as they appeared to be in a dingy alley, and was quickly followed by both the Doctor and Turlough.

“Yuck,” she muttered. “‘S like being in London all over again.”

“Mind the broken glass,” the Doctor replied with a soft smile that didn’t have any real mirth behind it. 

“Where’s the Carnaval?” Turlough asked, glancing around uneasily. “There should be loads of people out here.”

“My bad, the Doctor sighed, glaring at his ship. “_Someone _didn’t want to land a few minutes after we took off from the train...” 

“There’s a storm coming,” Rose sighed, shoulders shifting in discomfort as she sensed the change in pressure in the air. She then shook her head. “Ugh, those bloody alarms are giving me a headache.”

“Whole city must have gone down, else emergency services would have been here already,” the Doctor observed as he took in the street lined up to the horizon with smashed cars chirping off their distress. “Cars are all empty. I didn’t expect them to clear the crowds quite so efficiently...”

“Um, Doctor?” Rose said in a small voice. He glanced over at her, puzzled.

“What?”

“They were... probably pretty hungry by the time they got here,” Rose murmured. The Doctor’s eyes widened as he took in the street with new eyes, noting the claw marks and blood and tufts of fur. Bits of cloth, discarded jewelry. His expression darkened. “Sorry.”

“Not your fault, thank you for pointing out the obvious to me when I was unable to see it,” he sighed. “The survivors would have run in panic.” 

“On the morbidly plus side of things, they’re all overfed and lazy right now,” Rose pointed out. Turlough made a soft noise of disgust but didn’t disagree with the statement. He gasped as a series of howls shattered the peaceful night air, moving closer to Rose as she tensed. She tilted her head, then let out a soft growl. “They’re coming.”

“I didn’t hear anything,” the Doctor murmured thoughtfully, then noted her unease. He glanced about before spotting an abandoned café. “Come on, inside here.” They ducked in, crouching low to the ground to peer over the sill of the front window with its shattered glass. 

“So many people, their faces blank...” Turlough whispered.

“Herding them like lambs to the proverbial slaughter,” the Doctor agreed. They both winced as Rose snapped at them.

“If I could hear them, what makes you think they can’t hear us?” She hissed. They watched in silence for a good long while, until they had passed on down the street. “Clear. Just- quietly, all right?”

“We have to do something before the outside world sends in remote surveillance and smart troops,” the Doctor muttered, sitting at one of the tables and carefully avoiding touching any of the discarded food. His companions joined him. “We don’t want a full-scale stampede on our hands. Where would they put them, one of the bigger parks maybe?”

“I’ll find out,” Turlough sighed, rising from the table and picking his way through the mess the chaos had created. “Just _stay there_, all right? And no sudden elopements, please?”

“_Elopements!?_” The Doctor yelped, half rising from his seat before Rose got a good grip on his shoulder and sent him right back down without any resistance. He turned to her with a raised eyebrow. “What does he think, I just go around all over the place getting girls to try and marry me off?”

“Nah, ‘s just an inside joke you’ll never live down now,” she replied soothingly. He rolled his eyes and slumped in the chair.

“How reassuring.” He glanced over at her out of the corner of his eye, studying, and she smirked.

“Well, come on then. Turlough won’t be tempted to follow them, not with me protecting his thoughts, and you’ve clearly got questions. Shoot.”

“You’re not tempted to join either the herd nor the pack,” he said slowly. “Why is that?” Rose picked up a hard breadstick and broke it in two, tentatively nibbling on one end and grimacing as she dropped the pieces back onto the plate. The Doctor smiled, despite himself. “Sandpaper and cardboard?” He guessed. She nodded, leaning back in her chair.

“Like I said before, I’m telepathic. It protects me from being susceptible to suggestion, but I’m not compatible with anyone else.”

“Sounds frustrating.”

“It is.” Rose shrugged. “Still. Better than being connected to someone and losing that piece of them in your mind... I wasn’t. I wasn’t there, when my mum died. I was running from everything back then. Jimmy Stone, then what I was, then anything that reminded me of who I _had _been.”

“How old are you, Rose?” The Doctor asked quietly. 

“I was born in 1986,” she replied on an exhale, ignoring his in-drawn breath of wonder.

“Six years shy of turning two hundred,” he breathed.

“Yep.” 

“My uh, I’m not sure exactly what Turlough has told you about us, but my species is rather long-lived. We don’t actually _reach _legal adulthood until two hundred.”

“Yeah? So what does that make you?” To his surprise, the Doctor found himself answering her honestly.

“The last time I bothered to check I was around seven-fifty,” he explained. “That was a good long while ago now, though. It’s difficult to keep track when you travel through both time and space. At best guess I’d hazard my late, late seven hundreds to around me eight-twenties, give or take a decade.” 

“So the Earth equivalent would be... what? Twenty? Twenty-two?” Rose asked slyly. He blinked.

“Do you know, I hadn’t thought of it like that before. But I suppose so, yes. I’d definitely be considered quite young by the vast majority of my species, even if I usually make a comment about being middle-aged when around humans. It _feels _that way sometimes, you know. The disparity is that my equivalent would be in their early twenties, but my species’ intelligence puts me on par with their elderly. The balance is in the compromise of the middle, I think.” 

“...Nah mate, I’d just tell people you’re younger than that,” Rose decided. “It’s more believable, ‘cause you don’t _act _like someone who’s middle-aged.”

“I don’t?”

“Nope. More like-“ she paused suddenly, pupils dilating. “They’re out there.”

“Turlough?” The Doctor asked, instantly concerned. Rose nodded, and as one they rose from the table and ran out the door. 

~§§~

“Poor old humans, all caged up in a public park,” Turlough murmured sympathetically as he tried to avoid thinking about how easily he could have joined them. 

“Turlough?” A deep, surprised voice asked. The boy jumped out of his skin as he whirled to face the voice, then relaxed with slumping shoulders.

“Victor,” he sighed. “It’s you.” He then plastered on a smile. “See you’ve got the Cutclaws all locked up. What happened? I ran all the way from the ranch-“

“You smell of lies. Where is the Doctor?”

“Oh, he couldn’t keep up,” the redhead quipped dismissively. “You know how it is. All talk, no action.”

“...Mother needs him.”

“Does she?” He made a point of sounding fascinated. “Well, I’ll be sure to tell him when I see him. Ah... where is she, by the way?”

“Above,” Victor spat in disgust. “With the Grey One.” He shook out his coat and sighed. “Come, I’ll take you to her.”

“No, I Uh, I think I’ll wait around here for a little while,” Turlough backtracked hastily. “Keep an eye on the Cutclaws?”

“_Now!_” Turlough yelped in pain as a strong hand wrapped itself around his arm. “We run this way.” 

“Should we go after them?” Rose asked softly. The Doctor, whose chin was resting on the top of her head as they tried to share a tight spot peering out from the corner of a building, sighed. 

“No,” he replied regretfully. “We need to take them by surprise. And from the looks of things, they plan on using him as bait to draw me out.”

“I get the feeling they’re gonna regret that,” Rose muttered. “So, where to?”

“The TARDIS.”

“That much was obvious. I meant _after _that.”

“...Quite. The Corcovado. It was there we first sensed Stubbe’s presence. Besides, these Wolves don’t like being far from the ground. Kind of hard to be ‘above’ when you’ve got a fear of flying.” He started rummaging around in his pockets, frowning. “We just need to get their attention. Now, where did I leave the- ah, there it is.”

“A whistle?” Rose asked skeptically, folding her arms over her chest and raising an eyebrow. He nodded happily. 

“This dog whistle belonged to a friend of mine.” He was about to blow into it before realizing something. “Rose... you wouldn’t happen to have any earplugs that you could put in, would you?”

“It’s just pain,” Rose sighed, bringing her hands up to cover her ears in anticipation. “I’ve been hit by a freight train before, I think I can handle your little whistle. Go on, then. Get on with it.”

The Doctor, looking severely concerned and obviously itching to ask, shook his head slightly and blew as hard as he could. Rose winced, eyes filling with tears due to her proximity to the sound, but stayed put. 

All over the city, howls erupted in response.

~§§~

“You’re not eating Ileana,” Pieter mumbled around the bone he had mostly picked clean. Ileana eyed him with disgust.

“And you never stop.” 

“The Cutclaws are so much plumper these days. Remember the Grand Duchess Anastasia?”

“...And Lord Lucan...” 

“Ha! Skinny as church wafers, but these bones...” his face contorted in displeasure as he spat the tibia onto the floor. “Brittle as twigs.” They both glanced toward the city below them in surprise, one annoyed and the other quietly hopeful. “What’s that rumpus?”

“It’s the Doctor,” Ileana breathed, standing to get a better look as the howling intensified. “He must be down in the city already!”

“Never!” Pieter growled. His head reared back as he let out a chilling call of his own, exerting his will, and the city quieted slowly. He then sat back down, pleased with himself. “Your precious champion won’t dare show his snout. Smell that air? The scent of fear rising from the city- remember Moscow?”

“Old times long gone,” she muttered, brushing an imaginary speck of dirt from her shoulder disdainfully.

“... I won’t ask you again Ileana,” Pieter said quietly, the very tone sending ice through her veins. 

“I will _never _be your consort!” She growled. “Never!”

“But I’ve given you what you wanted. All the Wolves brought together-“

“Reduced to a limp-tailed mob, cringing under your _cruelty!_”

“Careful, or I’ll turn that will on you too!” He snapped, rising quickly to his full height and towering over her. Ileana flinched away. 

“You already have,” she snarled. Of course, that was the moment Victor came running up with an exhausted Turlough in tow. Few words were exchanged, though Turlough made a point to tell Ileana exactly what the Doctor thought of the world they’d arrived in. 

~§§~

“For the record, I think this is a horrible plan,” Rose muttered. She was standing squarely between the Doctor and the angry mob of Wolves encircling them as they edged toward the TARDIS door.

“Duly noted,” he whispered back before raising his voice. “My friends, good to see you come when called! First to Pieter Stubbe, and now to my whistle! Splendid stuff!”

“Watch it!” Rose snapped, irritated by the slight. He swallowed, recognizing he’d overstepped an unspoken boundary as the growling intensified, and continued.

“I’m sure Pieter knows best, given that he’s an _honorable _Wolf,” he pressed. “So it’s good to see you out in the open, not skulking in the shadows.”

“Stubbe promised us our age-old rights,” a Wolf that sounded like Inez snarled. 

“Oh? You don’t sound too sure. Still, not to worry. I’m sure Stubbe’s a good fellow. He’ll have it all in hand. But, tell me, how will you manage to feed and water the Cutclaw herds? The stupid creatures obviously can’t look after themselves. And what about the human troops? When they roll up to take back their city?”

“Stubbe said he’d lead us,” Inez countered, eyes flickering with unease. The Doctor smiled as he saw he was getting through to them.

“What? From up on the hill? Loosing his _dogs of war _against smart weapons and _Wolf-seeking missiles?_ How magnanimous of him. You used to run free and choose for yourselves, but not he does it for you.” The growls changed, or at least the intended recipient of them did. Rose let out a breath as she suddenly caught on to what her new friend was doing. “Soon you won’t have to think at all! Soon you’ll be nothing but a kennel full of the _honorable _Pieter Stubbe’s _lapdog poodles!_” 

With that, he gently rugged Rose into the TARDIS and quickly shut the doors behind them.

“Still think it was a horrible plan?” He asked innocently, eyes sparking with mischief. Rose huffed, feigning annoyance even as she flashed him a tongue-touched grin. 

“Horrible? Nope. Bonkers? Yep.”

“The best ones always are,” he chuckled as he dashed about the console inputting coordinates. They landed on the hill just in time to see Stubbe about to throw Turlough off the edge of the mountain, and with a sharp bark Rose was out the doors. 

“Let him go!” She growled. The Doctor, right on her heels, watched with fascination as her eyes burned bright gold and her voice reverberated with an odd dual-layered quality to it. “He’s mine, Stubbe. You know the old laws. Drop him.”

“If you insist,” Stubbe snarled as he threw Turlough to land in a heap next to the TARDIS. Rose immediately bent to help him into the safety of the ship, laying him down inside, before coming back out to stand just behind the Doctor’s right shoulder. 

“Pieter Stubbe!” The Doctor called, confidently standing tall as he regarded the monster before him. “When I challenged you you should have had the decency to stay and face me!”

“Challenges I accept,” Stubbe spat, regarding the blue box warily. “Not taunts. What is that object? More moonshine?”

“Ileana, thank you for returning my TARDIS,” the Doctor said, ignoring Stubbe entirely. 

“I only understood it was important...” she murmured, eyeing it with awe. 

“It is.” 

“Important?” The Grey One stuttered incredulously, contemptuously. “It’s just illusion! Just like you, Doctor. You don’t belong here. This is our world. You are the real monster, and just as full of tricks as a tar pit.”

“And you’re burning on a sticky wicket Pieter,” the Doctor taunted, gently nudging Rose’s side with his elbow to get her to stop growling at the Old Wolf. “So, I challenge you!”

“Yes, monster,” Pieter retorted in a simpering voice. “Now what?”

“You will release the people you’ve enslaved, both Wolves and humans alike.”

“I hold sway here-“

“In just a tiny city!” 

“Not for long,” Stubbe chuckled. The Doctor’s confident facade cracked slightly. “There are many more Wolves to be found and unleashed, just as I did with _her_.” 

“Turning someone against their will won’t make them loyal to you!” Rose snapped, moving to stand squarely by the Doctor’s side rather than behind him. “Just ask Jimmy Stone.” She tilted her head slightly to the side and smirked as howling erupted from the city. “Oh, can’t you hear? Your _current _army is turning on you already!” 

“This is your doing, yours and his!” Pieter growled. “I’ll stop their whining!” He prowled away to raise his head and howled a wild call that sent chills up and down the Doctor’s spine. “Listen to me, you rabble! I am your king, lord of the forests! I won’t be denied!” He howled again, dark and dominating, and this time the Time Lord actually _did _shiver in response. 

“Doctor, when you travel, what do you look for?” Ileana whispered, moving to stand next to him on his open side. 

“Easy. I look for possibilities,” he murmured back. “I look for things I could never imagine. I want to know how they work and perhaps, just perhaps, make them work better.” He watched as Rose stalked away from them to gaze out over the city, curious about what she was thinking. 

“And you share that?” They ignored Stubbe as he continued hurling abuse after abuse into Rio.

“With my companions, yes. Some people call it meddling, others thank me for it.” A shrug. “Depends which side they’re on.”

“Doctor... I could be more than just a companion,” Ileana suggested. He glanced at her sharply, at the way her eyelashes were fluttering. He thought about what Rose and Turlough had said and his expression hardened.

“And how would that work exactly?” He asked drily. “Not once the entire time I’ve been here have you asked what I wanted. You thrust a proposal on me in the heat of the moment and forbid me from finding me friend, who for all I knew had been killed. You knew full well I traveled among the stars and called them home, and expected I would leave all of that for someone I had only just met because she told me to. No consideration for anyone but yourself. What sort of relationship would that be, Hmm? I only pray that the next male to catch your interests is treated better than I was, and that those that seek your courtship are treated better than poor Lichfuss.” 

The door of the TARDIS opened as she was about to reply, Turlough sticking his head out. He appeared groggy but otherwise unscathed.

“Doctor!” He shouted. “Are you and Rose coming or not?” 

“Doctor!” Stubbe snarled, giving up his conquest. He stalked over to the rest of them, ignoring the growl rising in Rose’s throat as he passed her by, and stopped. “You’ve turned my own brood against me!”

“Just this once, into the TARDIS,” the Doctor muttered into Ileana’s ear. She nodded and dashed inside, leaving him with Stubbe. 

“You cannot keep me from my beloved!” Stubbe roared, lunging. In seconds, Rose was between them and the Doctor huffed as his back hit the TARDIS doors, stumbling through them, and fell onto the floor. Turlough closed the doors.

“You can’t leave Rose out there alone with him!” He protested, abruptly springing to his feet and dashing toward the console. 

“Ileana, hold him back!” Turlough snapped, the ferocity and determination in his tone startling her into action. The Time Lord struggled as she gripped his arms behind his back. “Let him see the view screen. Don’t worry, Doctor. Rose won’t be the one that’ll need to lick her wounds.” 

Huffing in annoyance the Doctor watched, worry in his eyes as the two Wolves circled each other. 

“Ileana!” Pieter growled, ramming into the TARDIS’ doors. 

“She’s left you for good, Pieter,” Rose snapped back. He rounded on her in an instant, eyes on fire, and she smirked. “How long has it been since you’ve seen the stars?” 

“What?” Pieter froze, eyeing her warily. 

“Your eyes, they give you away,” she whispered, stepping close. “Those large, burning gold eyes. Like mine. How long have you lived, Pieter? Better question, when did you change?”

“I don’t-“

“You’re like me, aren’t you? But something became twisted. You’re not like me anymore, not really. The world got into your bones, buried itself deep in you. You’re tied to it now. Who died, Stubbe? Whose grave is under the soil that keeps you here?” 

“My mate’s,” he hissed out through clenched fangs. “No more questions, little one. I fight with claws, not words.“

“You believe Ileana is her soul reincarnated don’t you?” Rose asked sadly. Stubbe inhaled sharply, then nodded. “You adapted to the world. You couldn’t leave, so you attached yourself to it. You made it your home. And when the urge to make more as yourself came, the virus understood. It fed off of the loyalty to home and people. Thousands of years later, and this is how far it has changed.”

“The virus is intuitive,” Pieter muttered. “It lives. It chooses its hosts and thrives in them. A thousand lifetimes I have walked, and now I again see my beloved.” 

“Ten thousand years...” Rose cut herself off as she paled, biting her lip to hide her terror at that prospect. “You can’t leave because of your mate. _They _can’t leave because the virus thought there was a dangerous physical reason you were stuck here, and passed that on to them. You have to let go, Pieter. You have to.” 

“Do I?” The man whispered. Rose took a step back. “When you and that Doctor are dead I will be with my beloved again. Ileana, my Sarai reborn. I am coming for you.” 

He sprung, and she shifted. 

They met in a clash of teeth and claws, ripping at each other’s fur and snapping at each other’s throats. Blood sprayed the ground and misted the dark blue wood of the TARDIS exterior as they rolled over sharp rocks and soft grass alike. Pieter, being the male, was stronger and larger. Rose, being the female, was smaller and faster. Her youth was an advantage over his decade of millenia and her need to fight to survive trumped his dotage of endless gorging. She was lithe, her body geared toward speed, as she crouched low to the ground and sped mere inches from being flat against its surface. Pieter’s belly sagged round and heavy as he panted to keep up, stuffed as it was with his feast from earlier in the day, but his fury made up for his slowness. 

They broke apart to circle once again, both limping and bleeding from numerous cuts and bites. The ground thundered beneath their paws as they sprang at each other once again. Rose had her teeth embedded deep in Pieter’s neck as he clawed desperately at her flanks, kicking and squirming as blood gushed from the wound and covered her face. He twisted and managed the kick her away; she flew through the air and hit her head against the base of the Statue of Jesus on top of the Corcovado. Panting, he advanced on her as she struggled to get back upright. 

Seconds later Ileana had launched herself fully changed onto Stubbe’s back, fangs digging into his forehead as she clung on best she could. The thundering of the Earth subsided as Victor raced to defend his mother, Inez and Jorge in tow with the rest of the pack directly behind. 

Stubbe disappeared with a panicked howl under the mass of writhing fur and bodies, like mammalian piranha sensing movement in the water, and soon the sound of tearing flesh dominated the cries and yips of the blood frenzy. 

~§§~

Despite Turlough’s protests the Doctor was out of the TARDIS practically stepping on Ileana’s heels as he ran to Rose. He swallowed when he saw the scarlet glistening in her fur, taking out a handkerchief from deep in his pockets to wipe it away and breathing a sigh of relief when he saw that most of it was in fact not hers. 

Aside from his hearts clenching and stomach lurching at the sickening noise of the Wolves ripping Stubbe apart he gave no reaction to what was happening behind him and instead sat on the dew-moistened grass, Rose’s large head gently cradled in his lap as he stroked her ears and waited for her to wake up. Turlough remained just inside the opened doors of the ship, face pale as he looked as if he were about to be sick. 

It seemed like ages before it was over, and when all was said and done the only recognizable part of Pieter Stubbe was his jaggedly-severed head. 

“The air’s lifted,” Ileana said quietly as she approached them. Rose was still unconscious and the Doctor was idly staring out over the city of Rio as a brilliant sunrise dawned over the water of the bay. “Thank you.”

“That story you told Victor, the one about the Wolf woman in... the Winter? How did it end?” He asked softly.

“The Winter Wolf died,” she said, clearing her throat. “But the woman had a cub. And when the year grew old, he left her snowy home and drove away the aged brown Wolf of Summer.”

“And so it goes in endless turns.”

“Year after year, without _him_,” she finished. The Doctor nodded, gazing over at Victor’s glossy brown pelt as he prowled proudly around the grey head of Stubbe. 

“How long ago did you leave Pieter?” Her gaze was steady as she looked at him.

“I think you know the answer to that,” she sighed. “Still. Pieter is gone now, his breath no longer ghosts my heels. I can be free. Free to lead my people far away from the Cutclaws and the destruction they’ve wrought on our forests. And you, Doctor? Will you stay?”

“I belong in the stars,” he said firmly, tiredly. “My home is no longer mine, so I make my bed in the wilderness of eternity and oblivion.”

“Will you take Rose with you when you leave?” Ileana asked tentatively. The Doctor nodded.

“If she wants to. Her nightmares are many, it seems. I think she’s more than earned a reprieve of them.”

“Of you ever change your mind-“

“I won’t.”

“But if you do.”

“I understand. Thank you, Ileana.”

“And you, Doctor. Thank you.” She hesitated a moment before walking over to her son, shifting onto her paws, and nuzzled at his ear. Victor dipped his head under her snout and rubbed happily against her neck, and swallowing the Doctor looked back over Rio as the sun came up.

~§§~

Slowly, the world came back into focus. Rose had a killer headache, and when she opened her eyes she sighed in relief. She was in the room the TARDIS had loaned to her, the ceiling above shining softly with thousands upon thousands of unfamiliar stars. The ship herself was humming gently in Rose’s mind, and on impulse she ran her fingers over the wall as the pain in her head dimmed. 

A long, long bath and a change into some very comfy pajamas later, Stepped out of her en-suite to see a steaming cup of tea and some toast on the coffee table in her little reading nook. Picking both up she left the room and went in search of the pilot who flew Her, which the TARDIS was only too glad to aid in.

The Doctor was in one of the most gorgeous libraries Rose had ever seen, his shoes and jumper off leaving his oxford and suspenders with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows and bare toes scrunching periodically from where he was stretched out on one of the large and comfy-looking sofas reading a rather thick novel that apparently kept him in suspense. He looked up in surprise when she entered, scooting into a proper sitting position as feasibly possible as one could when they were cross-legged with their back against the armrest. Rose sat opposite him on the other end and mimicked his position while he set his book on an end table.

“Hey,” she murmured around the rim of her tea mug.

“Hello,” he said quietly in response. His blue eyes were soft and concerned. “I thought you’d be a while yet before waking. Turlough will sleep several hours more.”

“I only need about four hours a night,” Rose replied with a shrug. “So, where exactly are we?”

“Drifting in deep space. Anywhere specific you want to go?”

“Not really. Just curious if you were dropping me off somewhere before moving on again.”

“Why would I do that?” He asked, leaning forward slightly. Rose buried as much of her face as possible behind the mug. 

“I’m not exactly house trained,” she muttered. The soft smile she got in return had her tense frame slumping in relief. 

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you like,” he assured her warmly. “Aside from the fact that Turlough might engage in a mutiny if I left you somewhere, I just wouldn’t be cricket.”

“Turlough doesn’t have a crush on me,” Rose laughed. His tiny frown was adorable, she decided.

“But I thought-“

“And I don’t have a crush on him either. We’re just friends, okay?” She then tapped her head. “How’s your brain? Got it all fixed up after what Stubbe did to you?” The Doctor winced.

“Nearly,” he sighed. “A long, introspective moment of self-care never harmed anyone, and I take them so seldom. What about you? Any lasting damages?”

“Nope.”

“Good.” 

They sat in silence for a long while before Rose drained her tea and spoke up. 

“So, if Turlough’s still asleep maybe you could give me a tour of your ship?”

“Oh, the important bits certainly,” the Doctor snorted. “But this ship has the capacity to be infinite, and even I have trouble finding my way around sometimes. But by all means, let’s go look.”

“You ever get lost in your own ship?”

“It has been known to happen, yes.” She beamed at him and he smiled back, feeling more rested than he had in months as he accepted her proffered hand and they walked through the corridors of his ship, which seemed more than a little pleased with herself for some reason. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that the length of the past four chapters is not uniform for the entire story. Some will be much shorter, some on;y slightly shorter. But the Audio Adventures will always be longest I think; they have the most content to sift through as it turns out.
> 
> Next up: An original adventure.


	5. Starlight in Your Veins I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PART 1 OF 2
> 
> My first original adventure for this story. Here goes nothing.

Turlough stumbled through the corridors of the ship toward the console room and had to pause and blink three times fast before he actually believed he was seeing what he was seeing. 

For starters, Rose was on board. Part of his brain had imagined that he’d dreamt the whole thing up in a twisted nightmare, but no. There she was. Second, the Doctor. 

Who was standing at the console barefoot without his coat or cricket jumper, hands in the pockets of his striped trousers, giving Rose - who was in some very _fluffy_-looking pajamas - an odd look as she told him something. A look that couldn’t decide if it was fascinated, amused, or concerned but somehow managed to be all three at once. He was also looking happier than Turlough had seen him in a long while, possibly before Nyssa had left. Of course, Nyssa leaving had been when things had started going all wrong so that made sense. Sort of.

“Hello?” He called tentatively, not being able to resist returning the wide smile Rose gave him in greeting. The Doctor’s head whipped up to see his companion and he nodded.

“Turlough, good. Was wondering if you’d decided to sleep in after what happened yesterday. But now you’re here we can be off. I’ve already parked.”

“What, you barefoot and me in my jimjams?” Rose asked with a raised eyebrow. The Doctor glanced down at himself, eyes widening as if he had suddenly realized his current state of undress. “Right, I won’t be a mo’. Just need to get changed.” She left, smiling, and the Doctor sheepishly trailed after her no doubt to track down where his jumper and trainers had got off to. Turlough shook his head and glanced up at the ceiling as the pitch of the TARDIS’ hum changed slightly. 

“Found that amusing, did you?” He asked quietly. He was still skeptical of the ship being alive despite what both Rose and the Doctor had said, but had seen enough strange things during his travels to not entirely discount it. “Bet you get plenty of in-flight entertainment with the Doctor as your Pilot.” The TARDIS made a noise that sounded distinctly like a chuckle and he smirked, leaning against the console. 

A few moments later Rose came back dressed in a soft pink sweater that had sleeves a little too long for her arms and a pair of worn but functional dark blue jeans with some black Chucks on her feet. She was in the process of adding braids to her hair strategically so that she could keep it down without having to worry about her bangs getting in her face, a hair tie clenched between her teeth as she concentrated, and glanced around in surprise when she saw that the Doctor wasn’t back yet. 

“Where’s-“ 

As if on cue, he came skidding into the console room as he finished shoving his jumper on over his head. He smiled at his companions and then flicked the lever for the door, striding outside with a carefree and cheerful attitude grabbing his coat almost as a second thought on his way out. Turlough followed after with Rose on his heels, and they all stopped for a few moments to take in the sight before them. 

“Wow,” Turlough breathed. He turned to look at the Doctor accusingly as Rose ‘oohed’ over the crowded marketplace with Saturn’s Rings as the backdrop. “Did we run out of milk?”

“Maybe,” the Doctor quipped, evasive. 

“So that’s a ‘yes’ then.”

“It’s a definite ‘maybe.’ Don’t try and read anything else into it.”

“So, if you come back with a bag that happens to have milk in it...”

“An extraordinary coincidence.” 

“We’re out of milk,” Turlough mouthed to Rose behind the Doctor’s back. She bit her lip to keep from laughing and rolled her eyes. 

“So come on then,” she prompted. “Where and when are we?” The Time Lord beamed at her and launched into his spiel. 

“An Earth colony in the year 3177. This is Titan, one of Saturn’s moons, and you’re looking at some of the early terraforming efforts. Pretty good for a first trip?”

“It’s a start,” Rose laughed as she took in the scenery. The sky, filled with Saturn and its impressive rings, was an odd shade of purplish-blue. The streets, while crowded, where clean and simplistic-looking, the palette was uniform in colors of birch woods, pale grey stone, and light green paint. Fabrics were generally in some sort of orange color, though the variety of light to dark shading was truly impressive. Actual buildings lined the walks and in any available space there were hastily-erected market stalls. There were signs clearly telling people where certain items might be rather than stores hanging from every intersection, and in general it was clearly a hub designed specifically for the trade of goods.

“I figured you might need to find some items considering you were traveling light when we first met-“

“_Definitely _out of milk,” Turlough cut in, the conversation dragging Rose back to the present. “And possibly eggs and bread, too. You never bothered doing this for _me _despite the fact that all I had on me was my school uniform, and I know for a fact that you didn’t do this for Nyssa or Tegan either.”

“I can be magnanimous when I want to,” the Time Lord protested, rolling his eyes. He pulled two silver sticks out of his pocket and handed one to each of his companions. “Pocket money, unlimited. TARDIS frequent flyer privilege. Don’t go spending it all in one place. Now, I need to find some parts sellers else the harmonizer is going to come apart...” 

With that he strode off into the crowd. Rose and Turlough exchanged a mischievous glance and, pocketing their currency, went exploring the stalls and shops together. 

“Do you often needle him like that?” Rose asked casually as she fingered a scarf. Turlough snickered, leaning against a potted plant. 

“It’s in the job description,” he explained. “You travel with the Doctor, you’ve gotta make sure you tease him from time to time.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She paused, holding the fabric against her neck. “What do you think about the color?”

“Mm... sort of a cinnamon,” he murmured, eyeing it closely. “I wouldn’t. Clashes with your eyes.” 

“It’d look good on you though.”

“Suppose it would. You trying to give me a new wardrobe?”

“The schoolboy look really doesn’t suit you.” 

“I’m all yours. I only need one really, the TARDIS can replicate anything we buy.”

He ended up with a simple pair of grey dress slacks and shoes, an olive turtleneck sweater that had a dark fir cargo jacket over it, and the cinnamon scarf. They paid for it and he immediately went into one of the changing rooms to get out of his hated schoolboy fatigues, emerging with a satisfied grin. 

“Yes, I like this much better,” he agreed. 

“Glad you like it,” Rose laughed. “Used to work in a shop, me. Was sort of my job to put outfits together when I wasn’t restocking the shelves, so it’s good to know I haven’t lost my touch.”

“You miss it?” Something odd crossed her expression and his smile faded. 

“If you’d asked me ten years after I left, I’d have said never ever. But now...”

“It was a tiny bit of normal,” Turlough finished. She nodded, biting her lip, before making an effort to shake herself out of her dreary thoughts and live in the present. 

“Yep. Who needs normal, anyway? Normal wouldn’t get me on Titan.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder at Saturn hanging large in the sky, grinning. “I’m in my own future. ‘S pretty fantastic.” 

“Tegan usually complained wherever we went,” Turlough remarked with a smirk. Rose cocked her head slightly to the side, interested, as they browsed the windows of the shops walking aimlessly down the street. 

“Who are Tegan and Nyssa?” She asked. He shrugged.

“Tegan Jovanka. She was this bossy Australian from 1980s Brisbane who wanted to be an airline hostess of all things, and she met the Doctor because she walked into his TARDIS thinking it was a real police box and then got lost. Then there’s Nyssa. She was from the planet of Traken, which was destroyed by this other Time Lord called the Master.” Turlough made a face. “He’s basically the Doctor’s schoolfriend turned arch enemy, so if I were you I’d expect to see him in the future. Anyway, when the two of them started traveling with the Doctor he was already traveling with this boy named Adric, who was from a universe tacked onto the side of ours. It was called E-Space, or so Nyssa said anyway. But the Doctor was different then. He was tall, with with wild brown curly hair and a Cheshire Cat grin. Wore a ridiculous scarf and everything. That was before his Regeneration.”

“Regeneration?” Rose repeated. 

“Mm. I’ve never seen it happen myself, but Tegan explained it and she showed me some pictures that Adric had left lying around-“

“What happened to all of them?”

“Well, Adric was... I never met him, and I’m telling you this because he’ll never mention it himself,” Turlough sighed. “Adric died. Nyssa left to help some doctors on a plague ship shortly after I joined the crew, and Tegan... she was my friend,” he murmured quietly. “It was Daleks. A more despicable lot there never was, let me tell you. She’s alive, she went back to Earth, but they nearly broke her.”

“Right...” Rose bit her lip and changed the subject quickly, sensing it was a sore topic. “So, Regeneration.”

“Regeneration is something Time Lords, the Doctor’s people, can do when they’re dying,” he explained, cheering immensely with the shift in subject. “They have thirteen lives, basically. And when they die they use one of those up to become a new person. New body, new voice, new personality. But the same memories, feelings. The core of who the person is remains the same. Look, I’ll show you the pictures Tegan found later. Just know that he’s apparently still the Doctor in all the ways that count.”

“But there could be, hypothetically, twelve other versions of him running around?” Rose asked, biting her thumbnail contemplatively. Turlough laughed. 

“No, I’ve met most of his past selves, and the one I didn’t I saw pictures of. This is only his fifth body, Rose.”

“Oh.” She suddenly smirked. “What kind of scarf did he used to wear?”

“Are you going shopping for him?” He asked, leaning in as if privy to a special secret.

“Yeah, but I’m gonna get it and say it suits him and never let on I know.”

“You’ve got a sadistic streak. ...I like it.”

“Ditto.” 

“Of course, you have to buy yourself a scarf as well. That way it looks like you were trying to be inclusive rather than obvious.”

“You saying I should treat myself?”

“Yes.” 

~§§~

The Doctor’s shopping experience wasn’t nearly as pleasant. 

After haggling for a particular part he needed for the better part of forty-five minutes he gave up and paid full price; it wasn’t that he was lacking for money so much as the principle of the thing that really irked him. So, when the allotted time came when he was supposed to meet his companions and check in, he wasn’t exactly in all that great a mood. On top of that, they were late. He sat on the edge of the fountain fingering the part he’d bought in his pockets wondering what was keeping them and nearly fell backward into the water when a long, tassel-edged striped scarf that matched his trousers appeared out of nowhere and smacked him in the face. 

Pulling it off and glaring at it he looked around for his attacker, subconsciously on the lookout for a tall idiot in Wellington boots with a wide-brimmed brown hat even if he wasn’t aware of it, and sighed when he saw Rose and Turlough grinning at him as they crossed the plaza. Turlough was wearing a cinnamon-colored one, Rose a maroon that went well with her outfit and complexion. 

“What’s this then?” He asked, holding the offending article of clothing away from himself as they joined him.

“Rose didn’t want you to feel left out since we got some ourselves,” Turlough replied with a smirk, sitting down. He made a show of looking around. “What, no milk?”

“_No_, Turlough,” the Doctor sighed, reluctantly putting on the scarf because Rose was looking at him expectantly. “I didn’t get milk because we don’t _need _milk.”

“Have I been duped this entire time?” Turlough whispered in mock horror. 

“The worst lies are the lives we tell ourselves,” Rose chirped. 

“Mm, Richard Bach,” the Doctor murmured before continuing the quote. “We live in denial of what we do, even what we think. We do this because we’re afraid.”

“What, of running out of stuff to put over my cereal?” Turlough asked, frowning. 

“Everyone has something they’re afraid of, who am I to judge?”

“That’s not- wait a minute-“

“Either of you guys see a food court or something around here?” Rose asked with a laugh. “We kind of skipped breakfast and it’s approaching midday.” 

“But- but you had toast!” Turlough protested. 

“Yeah, and it’s lunchtime. Now I want chips.” 

“We can certainly go looking for a vendor,” the Doctor agreed, shaking his head. It had been a while since he’d had fish and chips, and it was sounding pretty good right then. “Come on Turlough, what have you actually had since that horrible burger outside of Rio?”

“As long as I can get something vegetarian,” he grumbled. “I’m off meat for a little while after what happened with Stubbe.”

“Understandable.” 

“So are we going or aren’t we?” Rose asked impatiently, bouncing from foot to foot. “I can smell it and it smells really, _really _good.” 

“Just when I think I’ve forgotten you’re a Werewolf you go and remind me,” Turlough sighed good-naturedly. The Doctor eyed him curiously as they walked, he trailing slightly behind as he observed his companions. Turlough was... happier, or at the very least more comfortable when Rose was around. For some reason, she put him at ease. She seemed to do that with most everyone who met her. 

“Hey, Doctor! Come on!” Rose laughed. He blinked, then smiled slightly as he picked up the pace. She took his hand and threaded their fingers together making sure he kept up with them, an action that caught him off guard for a few seconds, before she asked him about the history of the Earth colony. He talked for a few minutes on the subject, becoming more and more enthusiastic when he saw that she was receptive to his impromptu lecture, and when they got their fish and chips (or in Turlough’s case a particular type of grilled veggie kabob that caught his interest) it only took a minute amount of prompting for him to continue talking as they ate.

Rather than finding a spot to sit down they wandered the stalls and entered the shops looking at wares, and Rose made a comment about how the entire place was more like market day in the middle of the shopping district rather than something more permanent. This of course prompted a beaming Doctor to tell her that they had, in fact, landed on a market day, and then Turlough had to ask what exactly such an event actually _was_. He rolled his eyes at the idea that handmade or fresh, organic goods needed a special time to be sold; his planet was very much about being one with the environment despite also being technologically-advanced with a decent galactic empire sprouting in their sector of the galaxy. 

Rose got a little bit out of Turlough in regards to what his planet was like and why he had left - two points of the Doctor’s own interest he had never been able to weasel out - and they passed the day for the most part by getting to know one another. It wasn’t until the Doctor went to toss his paper carton from his meal into the nearest bin and turned to offer to do the same to his companion’s that he noticed that she’d been absently picking at hers all afternoon, lazily taking a chip every once in a while but ignoring the fish completely, and it suddenly struck him that while she’d had toast that morning she’d only taken a nibble off of the corner of one slice before conveniently forgetting about the plate in the library when they’d moved onto their impromptu tour of the TARDIS. His brow furrowed slightly in concern at that but he said nothing, not really being able to cite the evidence of a pattern when they’d known each other properly less than a day. 

Besides, he argued with himself, maybe she was feeling under the weather. And not everyone ate quickly, some taking forever (*cough* Nyssa *cough*) to finish a single meal. It didn’t help that part of the debate when she tossed the remains into a bin when she thought neither of them were watching, though.

“Why take us to this place specifically, Doctor?” Turlough asked as they completed a circuit and were approaching the fountain once again.

“It’s well-known in this period for it’s Cuírefjenthe pieces,” the Time Lord explained with a small smile. He was rewarded when Turlough turned to gape at him.

“You don’t mean...?” 

“An entire selection of Jienqali Desfall’s platinum records? I think I do.”

“Jen, gin- what now?” Rose asked, curious.

“She’s only the best singer _ever_,” Turlough exclaimed excitedly, looking at the numerous signs before spotting one and taking off without them.

“Wow,” Rose muttered. “Tad excitable.”

“Turlough _is _an adolescent male according to the standards of his species. You never went _ga-ga_ over a particular band or artist when you were his age?” The Doctor asked with an amused raise of an eyebrow. To his surprise Rose’s entire posture tensed and her expression shuttered.

“Once,” she muttered, then took a shaky breath and immediately changed the subject. “You?”

“Gallifreyan music wasn’t exactly known for its youth fan base,” he sighed over-dramatically, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “Now, music from Earth in the 1980s however... there’s a reason they call it _Classic _Rock.” She rolled her eyes but his efforts were rewarded when she relaxed slightly, the corners of her mouth upturned ever so slightly with suppressed amusement. 

“Well, if he’s gone off to look at whatever _that _is, what are we gonna do?” Rose asked, taking his hand and swinging them clasped between them. The Doctor blinked, unaccustomed to such constant physical contact but finding that he was quite enjoying it, and shrugged.

“Don’t know. Anything strike your fancy?”

“We could always just... pick a direction and keep with it,” Rose suggested. The Doctor smirked.

“Ah, the impromptu not-plan approach. Yes, I know it well. Pick left or right, I’ll flip for it,” he said as he rummaged in his pockets and drew out a coin. 

“Heads is left, tails is right.” Nodding, he flipped the coin into the air and caught it before flipping it deftly onto the back of his outstretched hand. “Tails.” They both glanced in that direction before seeming to come to an unspoken agreement, and abruptly turned towards the left. 

Turlough, meanwhile, was having the time of his life. Jienqali Desfall had happened to be there, _in person_, signing marketable merchandise (of which there was an excess), and he quickly selected several things he’d like to purchase before jumping into the very long queue to meet his favorite singer. 

~§§~

“Do you think they saw us?” Rose asked so softly the Doctor barely caught it. He shook his head in the negative and then took a chance to peer slightly around the corner to watch the crates being unloaded.

“No, we would have heard about it by now if they had. Didn’t you notice the guns?”

“That cargo has to be illegal.”

“What, why?”

“Because half of it smells like exotic meat, and the other half have living creatures inside of them,” she murmured promptly. When he shot her an incredulous glance she shrugged. “Not my fault that my Wolf physiology is superior to your Time Lord one.”

“So that’s what it feels like,” the Doctor muttered to himself before tracking a particular man with an intense blue gaze. “I think he’s the leader. Notice how everyone else is deferring to him?”

“Mm,” Rose sighed, thoughtfully worrying at her lip. “If they’re smuggling illegal contraband, then there has to be a black market around here somewhere.”

“Agreed. Shall we go find it?”

“Actually...” he looked over at her expectantly and she sighed again. “It might be best if you sneak around their ship and cargo. You don’t exactly scream ‘Black Market Buyer,’ but I’ve been to a so-called ‘Fire Sale’ in my travels often enough to pull it off.”

“To be clear, you’re actually suggesting we split up to work this case from two different angles?” The Doctor asked, eyes widening slightly in surprise. Rose nodded.

“Well, yeah. Is that not all right?”

“No no, it’s fine. It’s just... most people I travel with, they tend to tell me to leave well enough alone.”

“But... I’m not most people.”

“...Fair enough. Have fun shopping.” His patronizing tone without any true feeling behind it made her quickly stifle a laugh.

“Have fun storming the castle,” she retorted, tongue in teeth grin as she turned on her heel and sauntered away leaving him gaping in delight after her little pop culture reference.

It was some time later, after negotiating the crowded streets, that Rose was able to approach what common sense told her must be the Dark auction. There were guards discreetly positioned before a beat-up tarp that seemed at first glance to be covering a solid section of wall, but her sense of space coupled with her hearing allowed her to form a general picture of a wide open area directly ahead of her well-hidden from public view. Squaring her shoulders, she approached the avian man who she privately labeled as the bouncer and flashed her most charming smile. 

“I’m here to see the wares.”

“Only authorized species beyond this point,” the bird-man snapped irritably. His head feathers ruffled and Rose eyed them with understated fascination before grinning a toothy grin that was ten times more predator than prey.

“Well, I’m not a human. I’m a Wolf. So...?” By now the second ‘guard’ had come over, and there were a few harried minutes of deliberation before she was let in.

...It actually unnerved her how they almost tripped over themselves to do it, really. Now properly on guard, Rose kept to the shadows and only left them to approach the items on sale. The smaller ones, anyway. There was the promise of larger things to come in the form of a livestock holo-display showing the creatures and (Rose assumed) sentient species to be sold for labor or show or whatever else they might be illegally sold for. It made her sick. A thousand years in the future, in _space_, and people were still taking advantage of each other in the name of progress. Some of the creatures appeared t9 be staring at the camera with soulful, sentient eyes, and the species that looked more humanoid were clearly sentient and high in intelligence. What constituted intelligence? 

Rose frowned slightly, remembering the way Stubbe had controlled the other Wolves. According to the mentality the Wolves had had, Cutclaws were even lower on the totem pole. There was hierarchy, then there was superiority. So far she hadn’t seen much of the former over the latter. Unbidden, she suddenly wondered how the Doctor saw her. As a person? As a creature? Or as something in between? It was interesting, but she actually valued what he thought of her. She’d gotten used to ignoring all outside option to protect her heart, but he seemed genuine enough and that was something she had missed. He and Turlough both, really, though Turlough already seemed to accept her plainly enough due to the nature of their first meeting. But the Doctor...

He was older, and had seen more. And Rose worried that he might see the dark she tried so, so hard to hide from everyone else. 

As the auction was about to commence, she and the other patrons chose their seats. She sat far to the back and idly played with her auction paddle as she waited for the event to start.

_Why was the line so long? Why? Not that Turlough was in any way concerned about being missed by either Rose or the Doctor, knowing full well that if he didn’t manage to find trouble to occupy his time with, she’d do it for him. But still, this was verging on ridiculous._

The Doctor waited for his opening, and when it came he took it. Darting quickly through the open space of the cargo dock he slipped into the smuggler’s ship, trying not to gag on the pungent aroma that immediately assaulted his sensitive nose.

“Livestock pens,” he muttered with distaste, knowing full well illegal operations rarely used them in a decent and proper manner. He passed the empty cells by and tried his best to avert his eyes from the shackles bolted to the ship bulkhead; he was angry enough already so there was no point in making it worse. 

Once into the main storage section he browsed the sealed crates and idly thought about making himself a new Sonic Screwdriver. It would be much easier to open the seals than with the high-grade lock pick set he currently had on his person. Crate after crate revealed mostly mundane, uninteresting items. Illegal weapons, drugs, life-prolonging technology. In other words, the usual. But one of the crates was piled high with stacks of seemingly-normal paper, and on closer inspection the Doctor let out a murmur of interest. The stuff was coated in a fine layer of poisonous powder, perfect for inconspicuous kills. This, combined with the guns, put everything in a new light. It looked like they were planning to supply a (most probably) violent activist group for an uprising, and not the pleasant peaceful protest kind. 

“Well, that’s interesting...” he couldn’t help but wonder which planet. After all, space travel was somewhat limited at this time in Earth’s history and the number of habitable worlds was about nil. Of course, there was the government of Titan itself. The moon had great profit from trade and commerce, which led to great public funding, which led to decent and affordable living costs, which in turn led to a low crime rate in the more populated areas of the moon. There were always boondocks wherever you went and in Titan’s case they were dangerous, but the large cities? Not really an issue. Plus, the market of Tisra, the capital city, wasn’t exactly the best place to hold a black market operation. Security was too tight, so if they’d managed to get through...

“Someone on the inside.” 

“Who’s there?”

...He really had to stop talking aloud to himself when he was alone. 

Rose had been quietly watching the proceedings of the auction with genuine interest. Many of the items for sale were completely foreign to her, and the ones that weren’t were still about a thousand years more advanced than she was used to. Many exotic species that were conversing quietly with one another in their seats, and a few dangerous-looking gadgets. 

That was odd. She had a sneaking suspicion that not everyone spoke English - and British English to boot - yet that was what she was hearing. Why was that? _Something to ask the Doctor about later_, she thought as she quickly placed a bid on what looked to be a package three set bundle of premium (and therefore most likely illegal) lock picks. She had to buy _something _to look like she was on the level, right? Besides, it wasn’t as if she’d _ever _use them. 

...Those handy, gorgeous high-tech and regular lock picks with the bronze finishing... 

Oh, who was she kidding? She was totally going to end up using those. And, if this first trip with the Doctor and the events in Rio said anything, she’d get to use them a lot. She could deal with that. 

A tall brunet sat next to her, entire body language indicative of a certain win, and Rose bit back an internal groan. There were times she wished she looked older than a barely-20 something because crap like this wouldn’t happen as much, she was sure. It had been fun at first, but now it was just annoying. 

“I couldn’t help noticing you were after Bid 63,” the man said with a smile. “Those are Bavelton Script-Borers.”

“Really? I just thought they looked useful,” Rose muttered sarcastically, holding up her bidding paddle again as the price raised. 

“We don’t often get humans here, is all I was saying. Especially... well...”

“Mate, this is _not _the first time I’ve been hit on. And I’m not human.” The smile she got in return was unnerving.

“I know. Our scanners are very advanced.” He leaned back in his seat as the auctioneer announced the next item; with Rose distracted, the picks had gone to another customer. “Do you have any idea how much someone would pay to keep a pet like you? I’ll give you a hint.” She winced as something jabbed into her arm, the world going blurry. “It’s a lot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s a general (and beautifully downplayed) running gag for Five that he can’t even follow the yes or no definitive directions of a coin toss, and I couldn’t resist adding that in here. 


	6. Starlight in Your Veins II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a little while. I had a bit of a writer's block trying to figure out how I wanted this to go, but I got there in the end.

The Doctor slowly backed toward the exit hatch, ruefully realizing it led to the rest of the ship rather than the outside. He had effectively trapped himself, but then again what else was new? It was like a regular Thursday. 

And- oh, the security room, which had cameras situated all around the ship, the docks, and the auction. Complete with one of his companions being dragged off unconscious. Typical. Absolutely typical. 

“I really need to make myself a new Sonic Screwdriver,” he muttered as he locked the door and began pulling wires apart. With a little luck he could permanently render them blind, and with some skill he could cause a little chaos. He liked chaos. He thrived in chaos. Chaos was always welcome.

...Ooh. But not an accidental test of the fire-suppression system covering him in sticky blue foam. No, that he could do without.

“They should really learn not to wire everything through the main power drive,” he _tsked _as he pulled the metaphorical plug on all the automatic doors, pausing in his work only to smirk at the outraged shouting taking place somewhere in the deck above him. “And for my encore...” all the lights went out, flickering back on again in a much dimmer red shade, and rather pleased with himself the Doctor slipped away in the confusion to see where they were taking Rose. 

Rose was not having a good afternoon. The drug they’d given her before hauling her to their ship left her feeling heavy and as if her head were stuffed full of cotton, and when she tried her ability to shift seemed... she just couldn’t summon the energy to attempt it at present. So she sat in her electrified cage, glaring at her jailer, and growled at him when he stuck a sharp stick through the bars. They both glanced up when the lights flickered out and came back red, and her sensitive ears noted that the buzzing in the bars of her cell had ceased. Flashing her now-concerned captor a toothy grin, Rose tapped the rubber sole of her shoe against the bars. She then scooted closer to them when nothing happened, applying soft pressure and gradually increasing it. 

Slowly, very slowly, the bars started to bend. The man with the long claws and reptilian eyes hissed, jabbing the stick again, and Rose growled deep in her throat as a trickle of blood trailed down her shoulder. The sharp metallic tang of iron assaulted her nose and her eyes flashed gold as adrenaline shot through her system; quick as a flash she had her hands around the pole as he was withdrawing it and she yanked it into the cage, snapping the shaft in half and daring him to do anything about it as she went back to working on the bars. The adrenaline was making quick work of purging the drug in her body, but not fast enough to be considered overly helpful in her opinion. 

“Rose?” She sighed in relief as the Doctor came bolting through the door.

“Look out!” He ducked, heedful of her warning, and barely missed a heavy right hook thrown at his jaw by the guard. 

“You all right over there?”

“Fine. Been better, could be worse.” Since there wasn’t anything better to do, she watched him try to fend off lizard-guy. “You’re really bad at that.”

“Well, I used to be quite proficient in Venusian Aikido,” he grunted as he darted away from the reaching claws and grimaced. “Not so much anymore. I’m not exactly built to be a fighter this time around.” He then seemed to realize what he’d just said and winced, waiting for the questions, and was only mildly surprised when she said nothing. “How are those bars coming?” 

Rose sighed, pushing at the beams of her confinement, and didn’t deign to comment. When she’d created a gap just big enough to slide through she escaped, rushing over to ram her shoulder into the reptilian man’s ribs. There was a rather loud and audible sound of several of them cracking as he flew across the room and hit the wall with a thud, unconscious. 

“Was that really necessary?” 

“I bet ten quid his claws were poisoned,” Rose snorted, wincing as she looked at her arm. “Besides, he was having way too much fun with that stick of his.” 

“Are you all right?” The Doctor asked, immediately concerned when he saw the blood. She shrugged, already walking out of the room. “Rose.”

“It was just a little poke, Doctor. I’ll be fine.” They slunk through the corridors of the ship on the lookout for anyone else when she suddenly stiffened, head tilting to the side, and he blinked when he noticed that one of her ears had twitched slightly. 

“Hear anything interesting?” He whispered. 

“About two levels up.” Her pupils dilated extensively. “Doctor, you should go and find Turlough.”

“He’s fine,” the Doctor muttered dismissively. Rose rolled her eyes and huffed. “What?”

“Sure, he’s _fine_. But _maybe _he can help us figure out how to get rid of this black market operation?” 

“...Right... well, we could have him go to the auction, I need to see a politician.”

“Oh, seriously?” She groaned. He hummed sympathetically. “Why is it always the politicians? That is _so _cliché. At any rate, what am I gonna do while the two of you do that?”

“See if you can rescue these poor people,” the Doctor sighed, gesturing toward the other cages. “It may take a long time to do that with just your bare hands, but-“

“I’ve got just the thing,” she said happily, darting away. He raised an eyebrow as he watched her go before heading off to find Turlough. 

~§§~

Turlough had been having a good day. _Had _being the operative word, because the illegal auction he was currently attending was _boring_. Though, he _had _gotten his autograph, so good things could still happen he supposed. Looking at shatter bombs as if they were paper weights was not a good thing. It was boring. Disturbing. And for what? So Rose could free some people and the Doctor could get somebody impeached? Was that even a thing here?

...Okay, those laser whips _did _look pretty cool.

~§§~

“Release the people from their cages,” Rose murmured happily as she used her stolen lockpicks. She might not have obtained them legally through the auction process, but considering that the auction was illegal to begin with she couldn’t bring herself to feel bad about it. “Easier said than done, but hey. I get to break these bad boys in.” 

So she went about her business tinkering with the locks on the cages pertaining to the bipedal species that didn’t look like they wanted to eat anybody, her blood boiling when she came to a pen exclusively full of small children.

“What are you lot doing here?” She asked softly, kindly, as she paused in her work to kneel down to be at eye level. Most of them flinched away from her, though one was bolder and met her gaze defiantly. Rose smiled at the girl invitingly, proud of her bravery, and eventually the children inched closer to her but for the bars separating them. They were - or looked to be - of the same species having purple skin of varying shades and shining white stripes. Inhuman bright green and silver eyes watched her curiously out from underneath white and indigo hair. “What species are you, where are you from?” 

“We’re from Iadesia,” the ringleader murmured cautiously. “Will you help us?”

“Was planning on it,” Rose said cheerfully as she went back to picking the lock. “Any idea why they want to sell you?” 

“Darveeglans think we taste better when we’re younger.”

Rose’s tools fell from shock-slackened fingers to tinkle against the metallic floor. She cleared her throat as she saw red, pupils dilating and the irises flashing gold. 

“Come again?” She asked softly. The girl grimaced. “They want to _eat you!?_” 

“Most species do, except humans. They have laws against cannibalism and we look enough like them I guess it freaks them out.” 

“So- so your planet, people just... stop off, take somebody for a Sunday roast, and leave again!?”

“...Yeah.”

“Oh, not anymore they aren’t,” Rose growled. The girl tilted her head at the odd sound but said nothing. In the silence the sound of the lock being ripped from the hinges as Rose gave up being civil was audible, causing the hostile beasts to stir and experiment with their confines. Not finding anything to their liking they grew upset, growling and bashing and in general causing a ruckus. 

“Thank you miss,” the girl sighed as she and the other children hesitantly stepped out of the cage. “But what now? This planet is full of people who’d like to eat us.” Rose bit her lip before deciding something and walked over to a cage full of people with very unpleasant dispositions. 

“Come back for us, did you?” A man sneered. He had sickly-looking yellow eyes without any whites, pointed teeth, and pale papery skin. “We’re murdering criminals, little lady. You don’t help people like us.”

“Those children need someone to look after them,” Rose said with forced calm, pointing at her charges. The man followed her hand and licked his lips. Two seconds later he was face to face with fangs, glowing golden eyes, and inhuman strength as he was dragged by his collar up against the bars. “I counted. If one of them is missing, if you touch _a single one, _I will make sure it’s your last meal. Got it?” 

“Perfectly understood,” the man wheezed. Rose nodded, then tore the bolts from the hinges and held up the electrifier remote that went to their shock bracelets. “Ah. Collateral.”

“Took it from the guard. Insurance. Now behave. I’ll be back later.” With that, she surveyed the cargo hold. No one left to help, so she picked up her lock picks and moved out into the docking bay. With a sigh, she started on the next twenty cages. 

Eventually she had a tiny little army of freed would-be slaves, and unfortunately the only group that seemed remotely aggressive enough to be of use were the murderers. Ah well. Rose ushered them all into the ship and then shifted. It had been a while since she went hunting, and there were still guards about. 

~§§~

The government buildings of the capital were situated on an elevated hill above the rest of the city, overlooking a gorgeous glass sea to the left and the market district to the right. The building the Doctor wanted was predictably closest to the former rather than the latter and thus farthest from his current position. After a particularly refreshing if not enjoyable run, he entered through a side door and crept through well-kept hallways. Security happened by more than once, but since he was following some unsavory-looking characters he somehow doubted that there would be too many people to arrest potential under the table business partners. 

It was a lot easier to find who he was looking for than it usually was, something that typically made him suspicious of traps but on this occasion merely served to point out how comfortable the deal was seeing as no one knew he was skulking about. 

...He was also beginning to see why his companions hated ventilation shafts as much as they did after sitting in one for the better part of forty-five minutes listening in on a business deal going on in one of the ornate offices. Dusty, cramped, all around uncomfortable. Eventually the talk concluded and both parties left, so the Doctor eased the grating open and slipped into the room. 

Going over to the rich oak desk he rifled absently through the papers on the surface, not expecting to find anything of value there considering it was in plain view. Suspicions confirmed, he moved on to the drawers. Most were just filled with office supplies and one larger one with folders, but nothing of any true value. 

Sighing, he slumped into the office chair and frowned. Why was it never simple? Unless...

“Rose was right, it really is too cliché,” he muttered as he located a false bottom on one of the drawers and opened the secret compartment. His day brightened immediately. As any good politician knows, having blackmail in case of scandal was key. Having hard evidence was even better. A folder of business transactions, pictures of the high-ranking members of the smuggling operation, and lo and behold... 

“Watergate!” The Doctor crowed, then immediately glanced toward the hall to make sure no one had heard. He gathered up the information, especially the recording device, and padded out toward the main secretary’s desk with his precious materials tucked neatly away into an inner pocket. 

The woman manning the desk smiled politely at him as he approached, pausing in her filing to deal with him.

“Can I help you?” She asked. The Doctor smiled brightly in return. 

“This moon has a Chancellor, correct?”

“That is correct, sir.”

“Splendid. Could you tell him I have some rather vital information regarding one of his staff?” When she didn’t respond right away he leaned slightly over the desk and added pleasantly, “Advisor Ferris, to be precise.” 

~§§~

“And the next bid, lot number seventy-six...” 

Turlough fought back a yawn as he watched the proceedings. Nothing of interest had come through since the laser whips, and-

“Cultural relics from the planet Trion.” 

He sat forward in his seat so quickly he almost fell off of it. How had these people gotten hold of- of- no! Those were practically sacred to his planet! 

Torn between wanting to make a scene and knowing that would help absolutely no one - least of all him - he settled back into his chair with a scowl and took out a pen and some paper, noting down who was bidding for what so that he could steal it back later. 

~§§~

The Chancellor’s office was just about what the Doctor expected it would be. Large, overlooking the beautiful seashore, and ostentatious. The armchair he was currently sitting in was so plush he felt he was sinking into it, and it took a great deal of effort not to squirm as Chancellor Reyan read over the portfolio he had been presented with in mounting fury.

“Under my own nose!” He hissed as the recordings continued to play in the background. “I should never have trusted Ferris with our imports and exports.“

“Hindsight is the only true 20/20 vision,” the Doctor offered sympathetically. The other man nodded. He had salt and pepper brown hair, was on the rail thin side rather than the pudgy side, and a permanently tired expression on his lined face. Stressful job, made worse by bad staff. 

“And how did you come by this information, may I ask?” 

“...Ah.” The Doctor ruffled the hair on the back of his head and winced. “I may have broken into his office after tracking the smugglers themselves through the building. You know, you should really lock your staff entrances and bolt down your vents.” 

“Duly noted,” the other man muttered exasperatedly. “What’s it to you?”

“One of my friends happens to be of a rare species and they decided they wanted to auction her off as an exotic rarity. I found her in a cage on their ship.” Reyan swore loudly and started pacing the room. “Yes, that _was _rather my reaction as well.”

”Apologies, that wasn’t very professional,” Reyan sighed. “It’s just... we’d been combatting these smugglers for the better part of four years when you decided to come along, and now I find out that the reason we never got anywhere was because the man I put in charge to investigate was _running _the operation.” 

“If you think _this _government is corrupt, you should see the one on _my _planet,” the Doctor countered with a tight grin that didn’t reach his eyes. Reyan snorted at that and nodded again, sinking down in the chair opposite his unexpected guests and rubbing his face with weathered, calloused hands. “If you don’t mind my asking Chancellor, you don’t strike me as a typical politician.”

“I’m not. Worked on the ships needing repairs for the better part of twenty years, loved working with my hands and getting them dirty. Then my dad dies and my younger brother refuses to take up the family business, being politics. Once this term is done I’m going to be out of those doors so fast people will think they imagined my time in office.” 

“I see.” The Doctor leaned forward in his seat. “So, what are you going to do now?”

“Arrest him, what else?” Reyan replied immediately. He gestured toward the door. “Thanks for bringing this to my attention. Have my aide show you out. I won’t keep you from your friend for any longer.”

“A pleasure.”

Once he was out of the building and - at the gratitude of the Chancellor allowed to borrow one of the government vehicles and a team of special security - speeding toward the market, the Doctor set his thoughts on how best to tackle the problem of the violent creatures on display. 

~§§~

The smugglers had come back, and Rose had returned from the depths of the ship to see that they had completely annihilated the criminals she’d let out. One of them had some sort of gun pressed to a child’s temple, and without a second thought she launched herself at the woman’s throat. 

Chaos erupted in the shipyard. Rose received her fair share of cuts, bruises, and burns, but the blood staining the ground definitely was not her own. She had her jaws clamped thoroughly around one lizard-person’s leg when she heard a shout and turned just slightly to see the Doctor standing at the entrance to the dock, frozen in place with wide horrified eyes. A security team rushed in behind him and went after the other smugglers, ignoring Rose and her catch for the moment.

“Rose, no!” The Doctor repeated, this time more firmly. The woman who she was currently mauling let out a hiss and raked her talons across Rose’s back. She yelped as she felt deadly poison set fire to her blood, the wolf virus immediately rising up to burn it out, and bit down harder. The resulting scream rent the air and time seemed to slow for a few crucial seconds as thick blue-green blood ran down the alien’s leg, over her snout, and pooled on the ground. It wasn’t until the reciprocating clawing became more weakened and uncoordinated that she let go, spitting to get the awful taste of the unfamiliar blood out of her mouth. 

The lizard woman sank to the ground, unconscious, and after a few moments Rose shifted back into her human form. She was kneeling on the ground panting as the poison was worked out of her system, and so she was easily able to figure out that the Doctor had run over when his white Zeds skidded to a stop in front of her. She looked up, streaks of blood on her face and fairly coating the inside of her mouth, and frowned at the look she was getting from her designated driver. 

The Doctor was staring at her as if he didn’t know what to make of her, eyes blazing with angry blue fire and his jaw so tightly clenched shut Rose was surprised he hadn’t cracked his teeth under the pressure. 

“What?” She muttered, slowly standing and dusting herself off before letting the sleeve of her sweater wipe away the blood.

“Were you trying to kill her?” He asked quietly, voice strained with the effort of appearing calm to anyone not near enough to hear them. Rose met his gaze steadily. 

“She was trying to kill me. I got poisoned at _least _seven times-“

“That wasn’t what I asked. _Did you try to kill her._”

“No. But I wouldn’t have been too upset by it if I had.” A muscle in his jaw twitched and she glared at him. “They were selling _children_, Doctor. Not as slaves. As _food_.” All anger was immediately replaced by ashen shock.

“...What?”

“Yeah,” Rose confirmed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Which would you rather me save, the kids on the menu or the smugglers who would have eaten them and killed me if I were a normal human?” With that comment the tense jaw was back.

“That’s right, you _aren’t _a normal human,” he hissed. “Your life wasn’t in any danger, now was it? Therefore, doing your best to let that woman bleed out was entirely unnecessary.”

“It still _hurt!_” Rose shouted, eyes flashing gold. Instinctively, the Doctor took a step backward. Seeing his reaction, her expression shuttered. “I get it, okay? I’m not some innocent civilian you picked up. I’m _broken. _I’m _used goods_. If you want to drop me off on the next habitable planet or just leave me here, I won’t argue okay? I just... I can’t pretend I’m something I’m not, and I’ve been hurt often enough that I’ve decided I don’t want to be hurt anymore.” She drew in a slow, measured breath. “I’m Uh, I’m going to go find Turlough now.” 

“I’d rather you went back to the TARDIS,” he said quietly, the tone too even to figure out what he was feeling. She didn’t turn to look at him, merely flung the last word over her shoulder. 

“Tough.” 

The Doctor sighed, breathing out long and hard through his nose as he regained his composure and went to speak with the would-be slaves and the security officers. 

Rose fought back angry tears as she stalked toward the auction, not sparing a single glance for either of the bouncers at the hidden door. One of them put a hand on her arm and two seconds later he was writhing on the ground clutching at a broken wrist. 

The commotion had drawn the attention of the auction’s participants, and there must have been something in her demeanor because no one hardly dared breathe when they saw her.

“This is over,” she said quietly. “I’d say clear out, but then the police can’t do their job now can they? Anyone have anything to say?”

“They were selling some sacred relics from my planet,” Turlough said quietly, staring at her with wide eyes. Rose nodded. 

“Give him his relics.” The auctioneer opened his mouth to protest, snapping it shut when she glared at him, and mumbling something under his breath he let Turlough walk forward and point out what belonged to his people. While that was going on, Rose sat herself down in a chair and blocked the only way out of the auction that didn’t lead straight to the docks where everyone was getting arrested.

“It’s sick, you know that?” She said quietly, examining her chipped nail polish as if the entire situation were trivial. “Eating children. Dealing in sacred relics. Using so-called ‘lesser species’ as slaves. What is wrong with you people?” Someone opened their mouths and she shushed him. “No, don’t answer that. It doesn’t matter, does it? I’m just going to say what everyone’s already thinking. Even if you do get arrested, you’ll be out without a conviction. Why? Because you’ve got money. Because for a smuggling operation like this to run, multiple governments need to be corrupted on multiple planets. You can pack up, move somewhere else. 

“Maybe this is the London Estate girl coming through, but I just- I don’t get it. Why is it that the more things change, the more they stay the same? Huh? Why?” Shouting erupted down the back path leading to the docks as the police showed up, and gathering up his things Turlough scurried over to stand next to Rose. “Least I have the satisfaction in seein’ you people led out of here in cuffs.” 

She didn’t meet the Doctor’s eyes as he came in after the security, though she could feel them burning into her. Standing, she grabbed Turlough’s hand and walked away. “Come on. Time we started back for the ship.”

“But what about-“ 

“Trust me, I think the Doctor would rather I _didn’t _help out,” she muttered. 

~§§~

After they’d taken off into the Vortex, after anonymously dropping the precious relics back on Trion, after Turlough had gone back to bed. He finally found her, sitting in the open doorway in the console room, legs dangling out into deep space. Turlough must have shown her how to set the atmospheric shell, he mused. 

“I wasn’t being cagey when I said I wasn’t house trained,” Rose said quietly without turning to look at him. The Doctor cleared his throat as he stood at the door leading to the rest of the ship and looked across the room at her hunched shoulders.

“How did you know I was here?” He asked softly. She shrugged.

“I can smell you, hear your heartbeats... feel the air you disturb as it moves around you simply because you’re standing there.” She patted the floor next to her. “Join me, won’t you?” 

He did so wordlessly, sitting next to her with one leg dangling out into cold vacuum and the other bent so that he could perch his arms on the knee. 

“You’re not damaged goods,” he said after a few minutes of tense silence. “And I wouldn’t toss you out even if you were. It-“ he trailed off and thought over what he wanted to say for a few moments. “It occurs to me now that I really don’t know all that much about you. You were mostly alone for twenty years, and suddenly I dropped you in the middle of an unfamiliar marketplace centuries after you were born on a moon orbiting Saturn.” He ran a hand through the hair at the back of his head, a nervous habit he’d picked up after regenerating. “You’re right, of course. I’m not used to traveling with someone who has almost as much emotional baggage as me.”

Rose snorted at that and he flashed a small grin. 

“Almost?”

“Oh, live about six centuries more and you’ll get there.” The smile faded. “Rose, if I promise to be patient with you, will you be patient with me?”

She leaned back slightly, pretending to consider. 

“I’m not great at being patient,” she said finally, bumping his shoulder with her own, “but I can try.”

“I’m not all too patient myself,” he laughed, nudging back. “But thank you for the attempt you’re willing to make on my behalf.”

“Ditto.” 

They fell into a much easier silence, simply gazing out over the vast expanse of the universe, until he couldn’t resist anymore.

“Rose, what exactly did you mean by the fact that you smelled me?” She laughed and he grinned. “Not that I’m in any way worried it’s a bad reflection on my self-care routine...” 

“No no, of course not,” Rose laughed, her tongue catching between her teeth when she looked at him with a smile. “You smell fine. Aftershave, shampoo, a bunch of body chemicals I’ve never smelt before and some I have but not in the same quantities... and...” she trailed off before adding, softly, “time.” He raised an eyebrow. 

“‘Time’?” He repeated. 

“Mmhmm. It sorta... ‘s like, something that smells fresh as spring rain, old as musty fall leaves, as present as summer grass, all rolled into one,” she explained. “It’s hard to describe.” She then leaned her back against the door on her side and raised an eyebrow of her own, mischief dancing in whiskey brown eyes. “Your turn.”

“...My turn what?”

“Well, what do I smell like?” 

“Ah...” he blushed, honest to goodness blushed, and Rose laughed as he mentally regrouped. “Shampoo, no perfume I notice, the typical body chemicals I usually catch a whiff of from human females...” he frowned, nose wrinkling slightly, as he picked up something he hadn’t ever smelt before. “And... the closest thing that I could use to describe it, even though it’s woefully incompetent, would be that you’ve got starlight in your veins,” he murmured, intrigued. “Is that the Wolf in you?” 

Rose shrugged, and he got the idea that she didn’t rightly know herself. She tilted her head back, exposing her neck, and closed her eyes as she took in the light of the stars as if she were sunbathing under a single sun. He blinked as her hair seemed to shimmer, thinking maybe the shifting light was playing tricks with his mind, but when his vision cleared once more he realized it was indeed shimmering. 

She peeled open one eye to a slit and held him with it, caught watching her. 

“What?” She asked.

“How are you feeling, now that you’re away from Earth?” 

“Mm... much better,” Rose sighed, closing her eyes fully again. “Like I’m where I belong, rather than trapped somewhere I don’t.” 

“I could... run tests, blood tests, if you were to give me a sample,” he offered awkwardly. “Try and diagnose your particular strain of lycanthropy, figure out just what makes you tick. Then, run it through the TARDIS database and maybe, if we’re lucky, we can do some research about your species.”

He received a small smile in response, a small indication of her mood.

“I’d like that, yeah.” 

“Rose, I know we’ve only just met, but I...” the Doctor cleared his throat and looked out to the stars, not speaking for a long while. “I’ll never abandon you,” he finally finished. “I know what it’s like to be alone, to not feel like you belong anywhere. I’ve been left behind by so many people recently that it’s beginning to feel like an epidemic. As long as you want, you have a place here.”

Rose turned to fully face him with wide eyes, some unknown emotion he didn’t know how to name sparking in them. 

“Lonely together, huh?” She asked quietly. He flashed a wan smile that held no true joy behind it and nodded.

“Misery loves company,” he conceded, leaning back ever so slightly and letting one hand drop to splay on the floor. Rose mirrored his pose, sliding her hand over the floor until the tips of their pinky fingers were ever so slightly brushing. 

“Better with two?”

“...Yes, I rather think it might be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Tooth and Claw


	7. Tooth and Claw I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a really close update since there's only been a day between the this one and the last, but I've been itching to start writing this one for ages so... Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of 2

They’d stopped by a Tesco’s late one morning in the 1980’s, the Doctor reminiscent and determined to visit his old friend the Brigadier. It had been three months since Rose had joined them in the TARDIS, three months of rather uneventful garden walks and malfunctioning star cruisers and the like, and now that they were out of milk it was time to make a short stop to Earth. 

Errands run, they’d decided it really wasn’t too far away from the school where Alistair was teaching. Turlough, of course, was none too happy to return after going unexpectedly AWOL, and while the Doctor cheerfully led Rose to the on-grounds house his friend was occupying the Trionite was stuck in the Headmaster’s office sulking - though luckily Rose had had the foresight to suggest they draw up papers to show he was being taken out of the school. 

“You’ll like him Rose, you really will,” the Doctor said brightly as he raised the knocker on the door and let it fall back against the wood with a genuine smile lighting up his face so much she could have sworn he had gone bioluminescent. 

“Think he’ll like me?” Rose asked in response. He opened his mouth to spout assurances when the door opened. The former military man was in his mid-fifties with greying dark brown hair entirely silver at the temples, neatly combed to the side in a large sweep across the forehead, and he sported a rather fabulous mostly-grey mustache. He was also carrying a tiny bit of weight - not so much flabby as more expected with his age - and there were laughter and stress lines alike at his mouth and eyes, which were blue-grey. 

“Miss Tyler, how wonderful to see you again,” Alistair said warmly, taking one of her hands and kissing the back of it before abruptly leading her inside. The Doctor simply stood on the step, immensely confused, before recovering and following after. The pair sat expectantly on the couch as he brought a tea tray in and set it on the coffee table.

“Uh, Alistair, what year is it?” The Doctor asked, head tilted slightly to the side. 

“Oh, still 1983,” he said off-handedly as he fixed three cups with the utmost confidence in his ability to get the preferences correct for both his guests. “Only been about two months since that nasty business with Mawdryn for me, though obviously it’s been much longer for you. For once you have decent timing though; I was about to make tea for myself anyway. Help yourself to the biscuits.”

“Now, why do you say that it’s been longer for me than for you, Hmm?” The Doctor questioned, shamelessly grabbing up a biscuit and nibbling. Rose rolled her eyes but couldn’t resist the smirk that spread across her face when he pouted at her for snatching his treat away and setting it pointedly down on the plate in front of him. 

‘Rude,’ she mouthed. 

“Well, Rose of course. I must say I wasn’t-“ Alistair cut himself off abruptly at the intrigued looks on his guests’ faces and nearly choked on the tea he’d just taken a sip of. “Good Heavens, I nearly botched that all up didn’t I? Suffice it to say, I have met Miss Tyler before this afternoon. Back during our U.N.I.T. days Doctor, and so have you, but before you get any ideas I was expressly told not to mention that to anyone unless it was brought up first.” He fixed the Time Lord with The Look™️ and Rose giggled at the sulky expression on her friend’s face. 

“Never mind that,” the Doctor said in faux-dismissal. “How is Rose’s being here a clear indicator that more time has passed for me than you, despite the fact that Turlough is still traveling with me?” 

“Oh, not authorized to say,” Alistair chuckled. Really, he was enjoying this rare moment far too much. “Although- Miss Tyler, I will say my condolences in advance.”

“Of _what!?_” The Doctor exclaimed, frustrated. Rose, catching the twinkle of mischief in the other man’s eyes, burst out laughing. 

It was at that moment that Turlough came through the door, clearly irritated and not afraid to show it.

“What happened, Turlough?” Rose asked. He flopped down in the nearest available chair and sighed. 

“So, the paperwork to take me out of enrollment is going to take at least a week to process due to my, and I quote, ‘unexpected and extended absence,’” Turlough muttered. “I have exams I missed that I have to sit to add to my file before they’ll let me go.”

“An entire week, Hmm?” The Doctor murmured thoughtfully. “Well, _I’m _not going to hang around that long. Mind if Rose and I hop forward in the TARDIS and pick you up after?”

“If you’re sure you can get the time right,” Turlough muttered dubiously. The Time Lord fixed him with a superior look and didn’t deign to respond to that with a legitimate answer.

“Now, remember, May 25th, 1983,” Turlough stressed. “Early in the afternoon, if you don’t mind. I’d like to get out of here as quick as possible, if only to be rid of this horrid uniform once and for all.”

“Don’t _worry, _Turlough,” the Doctor assured. Turlough did not look convinced. “We’ll be back right on time.” He fixed Alistair with a look as the man clearly was holding in a laugh and then swept into his ship. “Come on, Rose.” 

“I’ll keep him on track,” Rose whispered. Turlough nodded. He stepped back to stand next to Alistair as the TARDIS dematerialized and sighed.

“Of course, you realize he won’t be here a week from now,” the redhead mumbled. Alistair laughed. 

“Nonsense. He’ll be here a week sharp, exactly when he’s supposed to. It’ll just be a matter of where he lands before he gets it right.” Turlough smirked at that and nodded.

~§§~

“They’re taking bets as to how many places we’ll end up before we get back to them,” the Doctor muttered as Rose walked through the doors and closed them. She smirked.

“Yeah? Well joke’s on them, because how will they know if we don’t tell them? We could be gone for a decade and no one would know the difference because neither of us really age.” He looked up from inputting the coordinates and beamed at her before pulling out a camera and snapping a picture. Rose blinked as the Polaroid developed. “What was that for?”

“Well, if you wear the same outfit, they _really _don’t have to know now do they?” 

“Ooh, touché.” Rose glanced at the date displayed on the console and frowned. “Good thing you did that, because it’s 1883 instead of 1983.”

“Temporal harmonizer must be on the bend again,” the Doctor sighed as he read the display on the tiny screen built into the console. “It’s about time for another tune-up. I had to do a major overhaul a few months back, but I wasn’t able to get to that system before something drastic happened. And, before you ask, it was not my fault it was someone else dragging me into something I wanted no part of.” 

“Mm. So, what happened on May 25th of 1883?” Rose asked, leaning against the console. The Doctor smiled, mimicking her pose. 

“Well, a lot happened in 1883 for the whole year,” he began. “Founding of _Life _Magazine, first overhead wiring system for electric lighting installed, first Vaudeville theatre. _Treasure Island _was published just three days ago. Depending on where we are I might stop by and get a first edition. Quite a bit, really.” His expression became animated. “And, what a year for Cricket. Surrey broke the record for the highest team total against Hampshire today, they scored a 650. This was the year of the Ashes, Rose! Wonderful time!” 

“I still don’t understand how you can have a favorite team when you’re not even from Earth,” she laughed. The Doctor simply shrugged. 

“So, what do you say? Fancy a trip into history?”

“Uh, yeah. Just let me get into character, huh?” He grinned as she raced off toward the wardrobe room. 

Rose wandered the racks, a wide beam on her face, and began sorting out what she liked and didn’t like. There was no need to worry over whether it was era appropriate or not, as the TARDIS had helpfully pushed the section she needed to the front, so it was all a matter of what she wanted. 

A particular dress caught her eye and she gasped before abruptly pulling it off the rack. It was a shimmering dark cranberry red without a bustle (thank God) and the sleeves ended at the elbow, the bust ending low-cut as well. Underneath was a dark midnight blue petticoat ensemble that included soft material that went to the wrist and a high collar, both without frilled lace. The long underwear was an easy two-piece set that acted more like a slip than anything else in black, and - as Rose had discovered on an earlier adventure - came with a transdimensional corset that accentuated her figure without making her feel like she was suffocating. 

As was usual with the TARDIS, the typically-complicated outfit was actually an era-accurate reproduction from the 52nd century and thus had some rather nifty features in it that allowed for easy putting on and taking off. Rose made liberal use of them before sliding on a pair of flat dress shoes appropriate for the time, then did her hair up in a simple braided bun. She decided to leave off on the hat, and that her makeup was subtle enough not to cause issues. 

The Doctor was pacing the console room when she walked back in, but he froze when he took in her appearance.

“So, what do you think?” Rose asked, giving a quick twirl that caused her loose skirts to sway slightly around her. The Doctor grinned, offering her his arm as they walked toward the door. 

“Every bit the lady of high-“ he said approvingly, breaking off abruptly as they found themselves with a horde of rifles pointed at their faces by what looked to be the Royal guard. “...society...” There was a sharp bark from the Captain and the rifles lowered. 

“Apologies my lady,” the mustachioed man with the stupendous sideburns on horseback said in a Scottish accent, “but we were not expecting to see anyone out here.” He cast an indifferent look over the Doctor. “If I might ask the business you and your manservant have?” 

“Well, my _manservant_,” Rose said, ignoring the soft scoff the Doctor gave in her general direction and successfully hiding a smirk, “lost the map and we took a wrong turn somewhere. Not sure, exactly, where we are. Headed to Edinburgh, that much I can tell you.” She smiled brightly. “I’m Rose Tyler.”

“Captain Reynolds, at your service,” the military man said politely. “And I can tell you ma’am, you’re a long way from Edinburgh.”

“Let them approach,” a regal voice said from the carriage in the middle of the procession.

“As you say ma’am.” He fixed the Doctor and Rose with a serious look. “You will approach the carriage, and show all due deference.” The Doctor gave him a cheeky salute as they walked over. There sitting on the seat, was...

“Rose, let me introduce her Majesty Queen Victoria,” the Doctor breathed. “Empress of India, Defender of the Faith.”

“It’s an honor ma’am,” Rose murmured, quite proud of herself for not squealing in excitement. Victoria nodded, a small smile ghosting over her lips. 

“I wonder, Lady Tyler, if you would accompany me in my carriage until we get to the Torchwood Estate?” She asked. “It’s but another ten miles further. As I can assume your horses ran off without you and I am in need of conversation, it would be beneficial to us both. Your manservant can walk with my men.” 

“I- it- I would be delighted.” This time Rose _did _squeak as she curtsied. The Doctor sighed and rolled his eyes before helping his companion into the carriage. 

“May I be so bold, your majesty, as to inquire as to why you travel by road instead of by train?” He asked politely with a short bow. Victoria arched an eyebrow at him and addressed her answer to Rose.

“A tree on the line, I’m afraid.”

“Sabotage, or assassination?” Rose asked sympathetically. The queen’s manservant shut the carriage door and the Doctor grumbled to himself about outdated etiquette before trudging along with the procession.

Upon reaching the house Rose and the queen disembarked from the carriage, and she dropped back to stand next to the Doctor as Sir Robert MacLeish welcomed the sovereign to his humble... manor. 

Rough-hewn stone had been smoothed and stuck together with hardened grey filling, the courtyard muddy from the rain and sporting several pools of cloudy tan water. The windows were dark, several of them with curtains pulled across, and the dark shingles of the roof looked as if they were nearing the end of their usefulness but hadn’t quite reached it yet. There was a single gas-lit lamp above the arch of the main doorway, illuminating the heavy oaken paneling and carved inlays. Weathered creamy corner brick served as a splash of color on an otherwise-unappealing house, but unfortunately it also provided a disparity between the rough stone and the uniform brick that was clearly an extra edition to the house. 

“Have an interesting conversation?” He murmured. Rose shrugged. 

“Sorta. She’s a bit haughty...” she gently shook his arm and grinned “...but Queen Victoria!”

“In all her stamped glory,” he chuckled. 

“I want her to say, ‘we are not amused.’ Bet you five quid I can make her say it.”

“If I gambled on that it would be an abuse as a traveler in time,” he grumbled. Rose rolled her eyes. 

“You’re just sore you weren’t allowed in the carriage. Trust me, you didn’t miss much. Ten quid?”

“An exception can be made,” he sighed, putting on a dramatic air. Victoria motioned them forward as she finished speaking with their host. 

“Allow me to introduce Lady Tyler,” Victoria said. Robert nodded shortly. “She will be my guest for the evening.”

“I’m sure we can accommodate,” the man said a touch nervously. 

“And, if you could find a suitable change of clothes for her servant later into the evening?”

“Sorry,” the Doctor murmured, not sounding very much so. “Our estate had just recently completed a match with the neighboring landowners. I didn’t have time to-“

“I often find Cricket to be a rather un_amusing _past time,” Rose interrupted sweetly. “What is your opinion, ma’am?” 

“It hardly matters,” Victoria said with a bemused expression. She was escorted into the house. Rose took one look at the Doctor’s face and quickly smothered an outburst of laughter as they followed her in, the soldiers unloading their equipment in the courtyard. 

Much of the house was dark with unlit lamps as they walked through, the air stale yet coolly damp, and it appeared that the wing they were approaching was under reconstruction. They were led into a vaulted room with a glass ceiling and the Doctor smiled at the observatory, the massive telescope at the far end drawing him like a moth to the flame. This part in particular was under construction) scaffold occupied the entire length of the right wall with tarps and discarded paint canisters, and some of the equipment had been shoved against the left wall. Stone pillars, worn but decent light wood floor. 

“This, I take it, is the famous endeavor?” Victoria asked, eyeing the massive telescope with interest. 

“All my father’s work, but built by hand in his final years,” Robert verified. 

“Truly impressive!” The Doctor complimented as he circled it. 

“Forgive my servant,” Rose muttered with a smile. “He gets rather excited over scientific progress and invention.”

“No, by all means continue inspecting,” Robert said quickly. “Truthfully I know little about it, and any introspection would be welcome.” 

“Well, looks to be entirely custom in design but for the basic template,” the Doctor decided, leaning up onto his tiptoes to observe something specific before dropping back onto his heels. His hands were shoved into his trouser pockets, his camel-colored coat trailing after him, and he looked happier than a child told they’d been given a snow day from school. “Metal... appears copper, most likely an alloy due to its endurance against oxidation, and the prisms...” here he frowned, and Rose walked over to peer over his shoulder.

“What about them?” She asked quietly. 

“Far too many of them. Magnification is well and beyond what it needs to be, very ineffective for stargazing, but I suppose that is a result of his making fine-tuned adjustments and dying before he could perfect it,” he mused. Robert blinked, clearly not expecting to gather that much information with just a simple cursory inspection, though he seemed pleased. 

“The imagination of it should be applauded,” Victoria said. The Doctor nodded at her, more interested in the telescope. “Sir Robert’s father was an example to us all. A polymath, steeped in astronomy and the sciences, yet equally well-versed in folklore and fairytales.”

“Oh, certainly. For an amateur astronomer to build something like this by hand without a specialist is almost unheard of. Very well-done.”

“How do you know him so well, if I might ask, your majesty?” Rose asked. The Doctor briefly turned his attention back to the conversation, interested in the answer. 

“My late husband enjoyed his company,” Victoria explained, then added conspiratorially, “Prince Albert was well-acquainted with _rural _superstitions, coming as he did from Saxe-Coburg.”

“Bavaria,” the Doctor whispered so softly he knew only Rose would catch it. She shot him a grateful glance as the talk continued. Victoria turned to Robert with a smile.

“When Albert heard about your local wolf he was transported.” Both time travelers stiffened immediately. 

“Uh, forgive my unfortunate lack of knowledge, we’re from the London area,” the Doctor started, “but what wolf?” 

“It- it’s just a story,” Robert stuttered, paling. The Doctor raised an eyebrow as the butler broke onto the conversation with a meaningful dark look at his master.

“Perhaps her majesty’s party could repair to their rooms. It’s almost dark.” 

“Oh, I do apologize,” Robert said quickly, making a noticeable effort to regain his composure. “I’m afraid my wife is the more congenial host. You must be exhausted after the carriage ride this afternoon, your majesty.”

“Supper, afterward,” Victoria decided. “Shall we say seven? We shall talk more of this wolf then. After all, there is a full moon tonight.” She shot a disparaging glance at the Doctor. “And a suitable change of attire for Lady Tyler’s servant.” 

“Of- of course, ma’am.” 

They were given a room on the far side of the manor with large window looking out over the barren and beautiful landscape. As they had about an hour or so to freshen up before dinner, the Doctor and Rose took the time to talk.

“So...” Rose began. He paused in his pacing in front of the windows and looked at her. “A wolf. Think that might be why the TARDIS brought us here? Trying to figure out where I belong?”

“Maybe,” the Doctor conceded thoughtfully. He eyed the dull black uniform laid out on the bed with distaste. “Must I wear this?”

“Don’t wanna anger the Queen, do ya?” Rose countered, flashing him a tongue-in-teeth smile. He smiled back. 

“That’s something I wanted to ask you about. Your accent is much posher when you address the Queen.”

“Oh, I learned how to do a bunch of accents,” Rose said dismissively as she pulled back the curtains and surveyed the sunset over the highlands. “Comes with the territory when you’re learning new languages on the fly.”

“Just how many languages do you know, exactly?” Her brow furrowed as she thought. 

“English, obviously. Welsh. Norwegian, Dutch. Spanish, Portuguese. Russian, German, French. Latin, little bit of Italian but not much. Oh, and never lose me in Greece because I have no idea. Um... Mandarin, Punjabi, Arabic. Xhosa, Zulu. A little bit - and when I say a little I mean ‘not a lot’ - of Klingon.” The Doctor, who had been listening to her list with ever-widening eyes, snorted with laughter.

“Klingon?”

“Well, yeah. I speak nerd. I’m fluent in Quenya, Sindarin, Tengwar, Khuzdul.”

“I... have absolutely no idea what those are,” he admitted. Rose smirked.

“Tolkien.”

“Ah. So, why so many?” She shrugged.

“When you’re backpacking it pays to learn the local dialect, yeah? I’ve been pretty much everywhere. The fantasy languages were just because I was bored and didn’t have access to technology, but the others...” she trailed off, a shadow crossing her face. “Sometimes the difference between merely surviving and actually living is knowing how to speak the lingo.” 

“...Right...” he cleared his throat and glanced out the window as well. “So, the Wolf. If the TARDIS brought us here because it’s more than just a simple manner of local trouble with the indigenous fauna, then we need to be careful. I’ll scout the house while you’re at dinner, shall I? If they ask where I am simply say I’m having trouble with my attire or that you sent me down to the kitchens to get some supper of my own in the servant’s hall.”

“While I distract the Queen and ask Sir Robert a bit more about the local legends?” Rose asked as she walked toward the door. He nodded. “Right. See you later, then. Good luck.”

“To you as well,” he muttered. When she turned back into the room he grinned. “Scotland, Rose. 19th century cooking in a rustic manor.”

“Oh hush,” she sighed, sweeping out into the hall with her skirts trailing after her. The Doctor let out a chuckle before following. He investigated the other guest rooms first and, satisfied that they were empty, moved on to the rooms belonging to the Lord of the Manor and his wife. 

While Sir Robert’s room was disappointingly devoid of evidence, there were numerous wardrobes in the absent Lady Isobel’s that the Doctor had to peruse through.

“Strange,” he murmured as he fingered the materials of what was clearly an evening dress. “If she went to Edinburgh... why...” 

Slight scuffling drew his attention immediately to the wardrobe on the far wall. Slowly, with light tread, he walked over and quickly threw open the door. A serving girl let out a high-pitched though thankfully short-lived shriek and he leapt away in surprise. 

“I’m not here to hurt you,” he said quickly, gently, moving his arms far from his body to show he was unarmed. “I thought something felt a bit off in this place and decided to do some investigating.” The girl was shaking, still not moving from the wardrobe. “Are you all right?” She shook her head in the negative and tutting softly the Doctor led her over to the bed, setting her against the edge where she could sit while he leant against a bedpost. 

“Who-“

“I’m the Doctor, and I’m here to help,” he said softly. “What’s your name?” 

“F-Flora.”

“Flora. Can you tell me what happened? The more I know the more likely it is that I can be of some help.”

“They came through the house,” she murmured, eyes dropping to the hands in her lap. “In silence. Took the steward. The master, and milady.”

“Why?”

“I- I don’t know. I was dusting, and when I heard the shouting I hid.” The Doctor nodded. 

“Okay. Flora, stay here. I want you to hide in the wardrobe again, all right? The Queen is here, with an armed guard, and I think that whoever is behind the attack had that expressly in mind when they launched it. Do you understand?” Flora nodded and he leaned forward to grasp her hands briefly in his own, a reassuring pressure, before he made sure she was well-hidden and went on his way. 

This time far more cautious, the Doctor crept out into the dimly-lit corridor. He frowned at the lights, wondering why they weren’t on, before realizing it was intentional. With that in mind he tuned all of his senses to their maximum sensitivity; he usually kept them more muted to add some suspense and put him on the level with his human companions, but now was not the time for that. While he was comfortable around Rose he was still wary of her lupine form, and he could easily admit that he did in fact find her extremely dangerous. 

Sharp eyes picked out the outline of an unconscious soldier on the ground, his nose easily identifying the drugs in the wine they had been given. Soft movement, the rustling of fabric, was just enough of an alert to let him jerk quickly to the side and avoid the outstretched arms of one of the bald monks. 

“Now, I’m sure we can come to some sort of agreement,” he chirped, dodging a punch. What little Venusian Aikido was left in his muscle memory the Doctor thanked as he countered a rather advanced martial arts kick and stumbled backwards out of reach. “Why do I even bother...” 

“You will come with us,” a voice said succinctly behind him, and he turned at just the right moment to catch the wooden stick before it knocked him squarely in the temple.

~§§~

“I have not seen your servant yet,” Victoria commented mildly as the butler came in to serve the next course in their dinner.

“I suggested he look in and see if they needed help in the kitchens, maybe get something to eat himself,” Rose explained as she speared a piece of meat on her fork and deftly cut it before plopping it into her mouth. She chewed for a few moments and swallowed before continuing. “We’ve had a hard journey, and he’s more a personal friend than a mere servant. Quick, intelligent, very loyal. He’s very particular about the upkeep of our estate.”

“I see,” the queen replied with a nod. She turned to the Lord of the Manor. “Sir Robert, I do believe we were promised tales of the supernatural. Since my husband’s death I find myself with more of a taste for such things.”

“You must miss him,” Rose murmured sympathetically. Victoria turned to her sharply and she continued. “My mother is dead, my father long before her. I’m their only child, and I find... I find myself alone, much of the time.”

“What of your husband?”

“There is none. I’ve had suitors, of course, but-“ she drew in a deep breath and turned back to Sir Robert. “Enough about me, your majesty, and more about this Wolf.” 

~§§~

The Doctor came to with a pounding headache and the distinct impression that he was in a cellar. He gave the chains wrapped around his wrists an experimental tug and grimaced, ignoring the people around him for the time being as he took in his surroundings. 

“Had better,” he decided with a sniff. “Two out of three stars. No room service and a distinct lack of escape options.” He then noticed the hooded figure in the cage at the far end and felt his blood run cold. “Ah. Let me guess. Lycanthrope.”

“Don’t make a sound,” the steward retorted in a harsh whisper as the lady of the house shivered. “That thing’ll eat a grown man, shouldn’t reckon.”

“Not behind bars he won’t,” the Doctor quipped, hiding his unease. “He’s a prisoner same as us.”

“Don’t pity him. That creature is far from human,” Lady Isobel whimpered. 

“Well, that’s hardly fair is it? Neither am I.”

“...What?” The Doctor ignored them as he heard the sound of a sharp intake of breath from the other side of the cellar and turned to see the hooded man open a pair of almost entirely black eyes. 

~§§~

_The story goes back 300 years. Every full moon, the howling rings through the valley. Next morning, livestock is found ripped apart and- and devoured._

_Oh, tales like this disguise the work of thieves. Steal a sheep, and blame a wolf, simple as that._

_But sometimes a child goes missing. Once in a generation, a boy will vanish from his homestead. _

~§§~

“Don’t enrage it,” Lady Isobel whimpered as the Doctor slowly stood and approached the cage as closely as his shackles would allow. 

“I merely want a polite conversation,” the Doctor retorted with a smile as he briefly turned back to roll his eyes at her. “Believe it or not, it _is _possible for extraterrestrials to be civil.”

“Intelligence,” the Wolf murmured. His voice was soft and whispery and he was eying the Time Lord with something like approval. The Doctor nodded, sitting cross-legged on the cold floor and leaning forward slightly. “Finally.”

“Would it be improper of me to ask what planet you originate from?” 

“So far from here. Past the ice fields and the dust of the rings and the burning heat of the suns. But this body? Ten miles away.” A wicked smile played across the creature’s lips. 

“You’re possessing him,” came the flat and unimpressed reply. 

“Oh, no no no,” the Wolf chuckled. “I _am _him. He was but a weakling heartsick boy, lost and fallen down a dell, when the Brethren found him for my... Cultivation. I carved out his soul, and sat in his _heart_.” The last word was said with a baring of teeth. The Doctor grimaced. 

~§§~

_Has the creature ever been described?_

_Oh yes, Lady Tyler. Drawings, wood carvings. And it’s not merely a wolf, it’s more than that. This is a man who becomes an animal._

_So you’re talking a Werewolf, then. Figures. _

_What?_

_Nothing. Please, continue._

~§§~

“Your consciousness exists in the virus then,” the Doctor determined. He propped his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands. “How very inconvenient for you. I’ve heard parasites have extremely low and limited lifespans.”

“You mock what you do not understand,” the Wolf said dismissively. “My kind are not like _Hers_.” At that, the Doctor stiffened. The Wolf smiled.

“What do you know about her?” The Doctor asked quietly. 

“That a Letoan Luna would deign to grace you with her presence is a rare gift, Lord of Time. She is deity to me, but I am strong and my cause is unique. For my people, I will migrate to to holy monarch. With one bite, I will pass into her blood. And then it begins, the Empire of the Wolf.” The creature jerked against the bars of its confinement suddenly, laughing when the Doctor did little more than blink in response. “Her scent is all over you. She burns like the stars, but all I require is the moon.” 

The Doctor’s breath caught as he glanced at the window, realizing he was on a timer for getting out without being an entrée. 

~§§~

“My father didn’t treat it as a story,” Sir Robert explained. “He said it was fact. Even claimed to have communed with the beast, to have learned its purpose.” His voice lowered as he shook his head in self-recrimination. “And I should have listened.” 

Rose watched the butler out of the corner of her eyes as he moved to stand in front of the window. 

“His work was hindered. He made enemies. There’s a monastery, in the Glen of St. Catherine. The Brethren opposed my father’s investigations.”

“Perhaps they thought his work ungodly,” Victoria said pointedly, making her position on the matter clear as well. 

“Or perhaps he knew better,” Rose murmured, turning fully to look at the butler as he began softly chanting by the window. 

“Lupus magnus est... lupus fortis est... lupus Deus est...”

“The Wolf is great, the Wolf is strong, the Wolf is God,” She translated quietly. She turned her gaze toward Sir Robert. “I’m right, aren’t I, when I say that your servants being bald men isn’t a fashion choice.”

“The monks?” Captain Reynolds asked, surprised. 

“Yes,” Sir Robert murmured, hanging his head in shame. 

~§§~ 

_The Doctor looked up from inspecting the cell wall where the chains were joined to the ring in alarm as the exterior door to the cellar was thrown open, letting silver moonlight flood the chamber where the cage was resting._

~§§~

The dining room was pure chaos, but Rose had got hold of Sir Robert’s wrist and was dragging him out into the hallway. They raced down the corridors, Rose following the rapid heartsbeat and scent of her Time Lord rather than the directions her host was sporadically shouting, and without a second thought she rammed into the door. 

It flew off its hinges and broke into large splintered planks against the far wall of the cellar, but Rose ignored the startled looks of the people inside as her gaze fixated on the Doctor.

“You all right?” She asked. He shrugged. They both turned, heedless of the humans racing off down the corridor, as the Wolf burst through the bars of its confinement. “Oh, seriously?”

“Yes.” The Wolf growled at them, its snarl like a clap of thunder, and Rose bared her teeth as she firmly shoved the Doctor toward the door. She let out a growl of her own, this one dual-toned and far more impressive for the lilting quality it possessed, and smirked when it gave the creature pause. She then followed after, chasing the retreating coattails of her companion up the hall. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s a bit of a running gag in the Big Finish Adventures over the Classic Series, but people from historical periods (especially if they come to royal courts) generally assume the Fifth Doctor is some sort of traveling entertainer, peasant, or servant due to his outfit. 


	8. Tooth and Claw II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of 2
> 
> For me it's about 10:30 in the morning. I just wanted to say Merry Christmas by posting my update on the 24th, because on the 25th I shall be very busy and I suspect others will be as well. Happy holidays, everyone. Only a week left in 2019!

Rose flinched when she heard the sound of a revolver echo through the house but kept going until she’d made it back to the main hall. Everything was in chaos as the men grabbed up rifles and shouted for the women to retreat to the kitchens, but Rose ignored all of that in favor of seeking out the Doctor. She heaved a sigh of relief when she spotted him up against the wall rubbing irritatedly at the cuffs on his wrists, and without preamble Rose got her fingertips around the clasps and pulled. They clattered to the ground without any further ceremony and the Doctor smiled at her appreciatively. 

“Learn anything interesting?” She asked. He rubbed at the raw skin and nodded.

“Plenty. Lupine Wavelength Haemovariform, if I don’t miss my guess, and quite interested in the Crown.”

“What, do power-mad psychopaths have a magnetism I’m not aware of?” She teased, flashing him a tongue-touched grin. “You’re attracted to them like a bunch of needles to a red horseshoe.” He snickered, then after a brief hesitation opened his arms for a hug. Rose accepted it and withdrew just as quickly, aware that they had limited time. 

“Rose, where’s the Queen?” Her eyes widened and she turned in a complete circle before relaxing. 

“She’s safe,” she sighed. He tilted his head slightly to the side in question, but she didn’t have time to elaborate as a low growl echoed down the hall they’d just come from. A moment later the Wolf rounded the corner and the men fired. It yelped, retreating back the way it had come. 

“We should go upstairs,” the Doctor suggested breathlessly. 

“There’s no creature on God’s green Earth could survive such an assault,” the steward said confidently. He eyed the Doctor distrustfully and reloaded his rifle. “Right now you’re not my enemy sir, but don’t think I’ve forgotten what was said in the cellar.”

“You want him, you get through me,” Rose snarled. The man stiffened and then stalked away after the Wolf. 

“You think you could take it?” The Doctor whispered softly, leaning in against her back. She sighed and put some of her weight against his chest. 

“Maybe, but I don’t wanna find out,” she muttered. He frowned at that before he was struck by realization. 

“You’re scared,” he murmured. After a few moments she nodded tensely. “Why? I- I’ve never seen you scared before. Not with Pieter Stubbe, not against an entire pack of Werewolves, and certainly not against anything since. Why now?” 

“...Th- these people are hunting a Werewolf,” she finally bit out. “What do you think they’d do to me if they knew?” The Doctor’s eyes widened and he turned her to face him. 

“You’re scared of the people,” he summarized. She nodded, and he was in the process of opening his mouth to offer some form of encouragement when they heard screaming down the hall and the sickening but unmistakeable sound of something being eaten. He redirected his efforts toward the group as a whole, raising his voice. “You lot! Upstairs, quickly!” 

Rose’s hand slid into his as Sir Robert followed on their heels, running toward the dining hall. No one else had the smarts to follow his example.

“Your majesty?” He called worriedly. “Your majesty!” 

“Sir Robert, what is happening!?” Victoria shouted back as she came down the stairs. 

“Your majesty, we’ve got to get out,” Robert said as he raced over to his monarch. “But, what of Father Angelo? Is he still here?”

“Captain Reynolds- disposed of him,” she said flusteredly. She met Rose’s eyes and they exchanged a silent conversation, one woman to another, one that the men did not truly comprehend. 

“Well, the front door’s been boarded shut,” the Doctor muttered as he inspected it and then turned with a grimace back toward the Queen. “Beg pardon, your majesty, but you’ll have to leg it out of a window.” Victoria raised her chin and walked toward the path he’d indicated with dignity, knowing that she would most likely not have much left by the time she was done hauling her skirts over the sill. 

“Excuse my manners ma’am, but I shall go first. The better to assist with her majesty’s egress,” Robert said as they reached the window. 

“A noble sentiment, my Sir Walter Raleigh,” Victoria retorted. 

“_Now _would be best,” the Doctor chirped, sounding falsely enthusiastic to hide his growing frustration. Without a word Rose placed her hand in the small of his back and he released a sigh as some of the tension left his body. The moment the window was open they ducked, stray rifle fire breaking through the glass. The Time Lord crept forward with wide eyes, Robert at his side, as they peered cautiously over the sill. 

“English Monks wearing Shaolin robes,” the Doctor murmured, raising an eyebrow. “Quite like to know what _their _daily vows and sacraments are...”

“Do they know who I am?” Victoria asked, annoyed. 

“It’s why they want ya,” Rose said tersely. The Queen turned to her sharply. “The Wolf... ‘s lined you up for a biting.”

“Now, stop this nonsense. There can’t be a real Wolf.”

“Can’t there?” The Doctor retorted as they heard a chilling howl echo through the manor. They ran for the hall again and skidded to a halt as they saw that one of the doors was in the process of being busted down. “And... now we run.”

“That it?” Rose asked incredulously. 

“Why, do _you _have any silver bullets?” He quipped sarcastically. 

“Funnily enough, I don’t often carry around the stuff that _poisons_ me!” She snapped testily. He winced. 

“Right, of course not. Well, then whatever option is left but for us to run?” He grabbed Queen Victoria’s hand without preamble and began hauling her up the stairs, noting with relief that Rose had firmly denied Robert’s wishes to take up the rear and was keeping herself in between them and the Wolf. 

Once they’d got into open corridors on the upper levels and the space wasn’t as tight the Wolf began gaining, and the Doctor jerked hard to the side to avoid the cocked pistol a most unexpectedly-appearing Captain Reynolds was holding. He fired it off and caught the Wolf point blank between the eyes; it cowered, whimpering, and veered off down a side hall. 

“Right, I’ll hold this position and-“ 

“Like Hell you will,” Rose growled, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him after, protesting and marveling alike at how strong she was, down the hall. The Doctor had Queen Victoria’s hand in his again as they ran for the library, and with a mighty shove Rose hurled her charge inside. He crumpled to the ground as she, the Doctor, and Robert ran for anything they could use to bar the doors. 

Well, the Doctor and Robert barred one door, having some difficulty moving the heavier furniture. Rose had no trouble barring the other one on her own, and by then Reynolds had got his wind back. 

“You’re very strong,” he rasped. Rose shrugged. 

“I lift.” They froze as the Wolf howled again and the Doctor looked straight at Rose.

“Do you know what it’s saying?” He asked. Rose tilted her head to the side and then nodded.

“Pretty garbled, but the gist is that there’s something that smells bad. Something in the wood. Something that burns.” A pause. “It’s gone now.” They could hear it circling the library in the corridors, but since Rose had barred the other door there was no issue. 

“What could be in the wood that burns?” The Doctor mused. “By basic incendiary properties, wood can’t contain something like that without catching fire.”

“Something it could be allergic to?” Rose suggested, biting her lip. “I- silver, when it touches skin... it feels like you’ve been touched with a hot poker.” 

“Really?” He asked, drawing out the word as he was intrigued. He began pacing the room, hands shoved deep into his pockets. “Interesting... perhaps the wood has been paneled over a thin layer of silver then.”

“No, but then I wouldn’t- ya know, so I’m just sayin’ that that’s a good comparison.” His face fell slightly.

“Ah. Quite.” He turned sharply on his heel at the sound of a revolver hammer clicking back and glared at Reynolds. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“This man is a traitor to the Crown,” the Captain snapped as he leveled his gun at Sir Robert.

“Oi, leave ‘im alone!” Rose protested. 

“And should I trust you, Miss Tyler, who so easily changes her accent?” Victoria accused. Rose rolled her eyes.

“What, just because I was born lower class doesn’t mean I can’t better myself?” She retorted, irritated. “My Cockney accent gets thicker when I get stressed. Gimme a break.” 

“And since we’re on the subject of blatant honesty,” the Doctor said with no undue annoyance, “I am not a servant. We’re friends. Business partners, if you will, and we were in the middle of traveling _to _our business when we ran into your convoy. Now, with that out in the open, airing all the dirty laundry so to speak, what was this property you and Captain Reynolds are so worried about that you seem to have in your clutch bag?” 

Victoria’s eyes fairly blazed with indignation for a few moments before she seemed to become resigned. 

“Lower the gun Captain,” she commanded.

“But ma’am-“

“Sir Robert was under duress. If we wish to escape this unseemly situation with our lives, we will have to work together.” She paused to glare at the Doctor. “As for you, sir, _this _is what was so important it far outvalues even my own life.” 

“Blimey,” Rose whispered in a gasp as the Queen drew the massive Koh-I-Noor diamond from her purse. It sparkled in the moonlight of the domed glass ceiling, facets flawless in its perfection. The Doctor blinked and leaned in with slight appreciation, mouth slightly open as he scrutinized the jewel with undisguised wonder. 

“Oh, your majesty,” Sir Robert breathed. Captain Reynolds walked over to stand directly next to Victoria’s shoulder protectively, as if he were afraid their companions would rush her for the diamond the moment they saw it. Time Lord and Wolf merely leaned in, hands politely far away from it, to get a better look.

“How much is that worth?” Rose asked.

“Well, I’m not one for gossip... but _some _say the entire wages of the planet for a seven day 24 hour week,” the Doctor replied with a soft smile.

“Mm. Good job my mum’s not here,” she added with a glimmer of sadness. “She’d be fighting the wolf off with her bare hands for that thing.”

“Well, if she’s anything as determined and optimistically stubborn as you are then I can say with absolute certainty, despite never having met her, that she would undoubtedly win.” He spared a brief glance for Victoria. “Why on Earth would you have this on your person?” 

“My annual pilgrimage, to the Royal Jewelers at Hazelhead.”

“Ah.”

“What’s-“ 

“Shaving, cutting, pinching and polishing, Rose,” the Doctor explained quickly. Prince Albert was never happy with the Koh-I-Noor.”

“He always said the shine wasn’t quite right,” Victoria chuckled sadly. 

“No offense your majesty, but how does this apply to the Wolf?” Robert asked sharply. 

“Not a peep out of you sir,” Reynolds snapped. The Doctor rolled his eyes, reaching into his pockets and pulling out his half moon spectacles as he approached the wood paneled wall.

“Humans,” he muttered under his breath as he slid them onto his nose. Rose snorted as she came to stand beside him. The other three people in the room dissolved into bickering and they ignored them. 

“What do you think is keeping it out?”

“Don’t know...” he reached out and rested his hand on the wood before frowning, running his fingers over it experimentally, and then raising them to his nose for a quick sniff. “Some sort of varnish in the wood. Short of licking it I can’t tell what, and there are just some levels I won’t stoop to.”

“Lemme catch a whiff?” Rose offered. He brought his hand up to her face and she leaned in for a sniff of her own, frowning. “Sorta... Christmassy. But beyond that I just can’t-“ The Doctor let out a tiny squeak as her bright pink tongue darted out and flicked over his fingertips, a look of shocked disgust on his face as he roughly wiped his hand against his coat. “Mistletoe.”

“Was that really necessary?” He asked weakly. Her smirk told him all he needed to know. “It wasn’t!” 

“Your expression was priceless,” she teased. 

“That’s disgusting.”

“Loosen up a little.” He rolled his eyes before growing thoughtful. 

“So, the Wolf is allergic to mistletoe,” he mused, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets. “Or, at least that’s what the Brethren conditioned it to think. But why? Why did it come here?”

“Sir Robert was sayin’ at dinner that it all goes back 300 years ago,” Rose offered. They both glanced over at the man, interrupting the argument that he had been having with Reynolds. “Oi, Braveheart! Any more to the story?”

“It began with a shooting star,” Robert offered tentatively. 

“Crashed spaceship?” Rose whispered, leaning toward the Doctor.

“Most likely,” he whispered back, leaning toward Rose. Stepping forward he cleared his throat and raised his voice. “Now, the Wolf said it wanted the throne. Victorian era, accelerated. Spaceships powered by coal-“

“Ah, Steampunk dystopia,” Rose interrupted with a knowing smirk. The Doctor rolled his eyes but conceded.

“A crude description, but unfortunately quite accurate,” he sighed. “So, the Brethren find the remains of the spaceship and only a tiny fragment of the creature is left alive after the crash. It infects a host and possesses the body, gathering strength over the centuries. Now that it’s powerful enough, it wants to amass an empire.“

“Why, though?” Rose asked. Victoria was watching the pair go back and forth with wide eyes. “And why is the wood varnished with mistletoe oil if the monks were the ones that used it?” Her eyes widened suddenly. “Robert, didn’t you say your dad had a falling out or somethin’ with the blokes at the Abbey?”

“Yes-“

“And he believed the stories,” Rose continued after she’d got her answer, cutting off the bewildered man. She started pacing and the Doctor watched her with a smile, taking off his specs and pocketing them now that there was nothing else to look at close up. “So he wanted to be prepared in case the Brethren brought the Wolf here. Why did he think they would, though? Unless...” she trailed off, mouth hanging open slightly.

“Unless...?” The Doctor pressed. Truthfully he could work all of this out more quickly in his head, but Rose had mentioned once in a moment of insecurity that she thought she wasn’t very bright what with not passing her A-Levels and all, and he found he immensely enjoyed seeing her work at putting all of the pieces together aside from the confidence boost it gave her. She often saw things he missed; they worked well together that way. 

“Well, he was great friends with Albert,” Rose said softly. “And he believed the stories too.” She turned to Victoria. “Why was he never happy with the Koh-I-Noor? Why continuously travel several hours to the Royal Jewelers when he could have summoned them to London? Why make sure his route took him right past this house?” 

“...Are you saying he _wanted_ me here?” Victoria asked, stunned. 

“The Wolf planned a trap for _you_, but if Albert could get you to a place where he could plan a trap for the _Wolf_...” The Doctor suggested, sky blue eyes fairly twinkling with the thrill of the adventure. His boyish features and shaggy blond hair only made his enthusiasm that bit more obvious as he rocked back and forth on his heels. 

“So the Koh-I-Noor was only a lure to get her here in the right time and place?” Reynolds asked, brow furrowing in bemusement. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why not simply let her majesty stay in London as you suggested Lady Rose, by summoning the jewelers rather than making the journey if it was supposedly so dangerous?” 

“Rose, do you remember what I said about the telescope?” The Doctor asked, voice pitching slightly as he grinned proudly. 

“Ooh, you are so gonna get a smack for not mentioning that sooner,” Rose threatened, the laughter dancing in her eyes ruining the serious tone. 

“Promises, promises,” he muttered airily, picking up a book lying out on an end table and thumbing the pages with feigned indifference. 

“So, unfinished business here, unfinished business there, and a Werewolf climbing through the glass ceiling,” Rose summarized, arms folding across her chest. 

“What...?” The Doctor glanced up, eyes widening, as the glass began to crack under the creature’s weight. “Run, run to the Observatory!”

“Sir Robert, protect the Queen!” Reynolds ordered as he brought his pistol up and fired right when the creature broke through the window. It howled and came crashing down onto the floor in a heap of misshapen limbs and ragged grey-brown fur. 

The Doctor slammed the doors shut as the humans tore off down the halls, the sound of heavy thuds against the wood and howls of pain intermingled with snarls of frustrated outrage. He took off after the others and passed by Rose, who was lagging at the back. Unhappy with that idea, he reached out and clasped her hand in his to tug her forward. 

The grip tightened ever so briefly before she pulled from his grasp and spun to growl at the Wolf, which had freed itself from the library to bound toward its prey. It feared backward, claws scrabbling on the polished wood floors, to tower over her. The Doctor simply watched in stunned reverence as she squared her shoulders and glared up into its face. 

“Luna,” it growled, the word barely intelligible under the many inflections and garbled voice-box. 

“Beta,” Rose snapped in response. “Back down. Now.”

“No.” It slowly reached forward, clawed hand extending toward her head, and she swallowed. 

“Doctor, get everything ready.”

“Rose-“

“This is between me and him. Wolf to Wolf. _Go._” Golden light shimmered through her eyes and the Doctor groaned before running once more toward the observatory. 

Once there he directed Reynolds and Robert to maneuver the telescope as he aligned the prisms inside and positioned the Koh-I-Noor in the convenient little niche it was supposed to fill at the top of the metal tube, wincing at the sound of two lupine creatures tearing each other to shreds on the other side of the unprotected doors. 

The wood burst from the hinges, splinters flying every which way and causing the people inside the room to duck out of self-preservation. In the panic the Doctor was a bit late turning the dial all the way open, and he let out a gust of relief when he realized it had been seconds away from sinking its teeth into Victoria’s arm. 

“In the name of Heaven!” Sir Robert gasped. The three humans were staring wide-eyed at the silhouette of the human-looking boy suspended in midair and splayed in a t-pose; caught in a shimmering blue-purple shaft of pure, amplified moonlight, but the Time Lord’s attention briefly flickered over to the door opening where he saw Rose - her neat braided bun hopelessly disheveled but the rest of her looking none the worse for wear - poke her head in to watch. 

“Make it brighter,” the Wolf begged through the voice of a dead boy. “Let me go.” 

“Very well,” the Doctor sighed as he cranked the exposure on the mechanism higher. The light became almost too bright to see by. The silhouette changed into that of the Werewolf as it lifted its head to howl at the starry moonlit sky one last time, and while the others were distracted Rose slipped by to stand next to the Doctor.

“You all right?” He whispered, tilting her chin from side to side as he inspected her for wounds. Rose shrugged, smiling softly. 

“Fine. You?”

“Took a bit of effort, you know. But I managed.” The Doctor glanced over at Victoria, who was examining a gash on her wrist. “Your majesty, are you injured? I’m a Doctor, if I could take a look at it-“

“It’s nothing,” Victoria said quickly, drawing her arm deep into the folds of her dress. 

“If it bit you-“

“As I said before, _Doctor_, it is _nothing._” 

~§§~

They were gathered in the main hall on the estate. Victoria’s arm had been bandaged, Sir Robert and Lady Isobel reunited, and Captain Reynolds was having the time of his life hunting down the scattered monks as they tried to flee. As for the Doctor and Rose, well...

“By the power vested in me by the Church and the State I dub thee, Sir Doctor of Lungbarrow House.” Victoria gently tapped his right shoulder and then his left with the blade of the sword she had borrowed before moving on to Rose, and he was smiling so widely his face hurt. “And by the power vested in me by the Church and the State I dub thee Dame Rose, of the Powell Estate.” The blade touched first her right shoulder and then her left. “You may stand.”

“This is a great honor I will never forget, your majesty,” the Doctor said fervently. Rose nodded.

“They’d never believe me, back home. Not in a million years.” Victoria cast them both an appraising look. 

“You think this entire ordeal amusing, do you not?” She asked after a few moments. Both time travelers nodded, smiling. “Well, I most certainly do not!” The smile slipped off the Doctor’s face as Rose’s lit up hopefully. “I am _not _amused! Not in the slightest! And as such, I banish you.”

“What!?” Rose and the Doctor exclaimed at the same moment, stunned. Victoria had only just gotten started. She drew herself up to her full regal bearing and glared at them.

“I have rewarded you, Sir Doctor, and now you are exiled from this empire, never to return. I don't know what you are, the two of you, or where you're from, but I know that you consort with stars and magic and think it fun. But your world is steeped in terror and blasphemy and death, and I will not allow it. You will leave these shores and you will reflect, I hope, on how you came to stray so far from all that is good, and how much longer you may survive this terrible life. Now leave my world, and never return.” 

“But-“ The Doctor started, intent on protesting. Rose stopped him with a firm grip on his arm. 

“Of course, your majesty,” she said quickly with a short bow. “We’ll be on our way. Come on, Doctor.” 

“Ian and Barbara never told me _this _part of the whole knighting thing,” he grumbled as they walked out the doors and into the courtyard. “They made it sound fun. I felt a bit left out, to tell the truth.”

“Yeah, who’d they get knighted by?” Rose asked, curious. 

“Richard the Lionheart,” he sniffed, kicking a loose piece of gravel with his shoe. He then frowned slightly. “Hang on. I never mentioned Ian and Barbara to you before, did I?”

“Nope,” Rose replied, popping the ‘p’. “Just assumed they were friends of yours or something.” She held out her hand. “Now, I believe someone owes me ten quid.”

“Capitalism at its finest,” he muttered, rifling about in his pockets before shoving a single note into her waiting hand. “Happy now?” 

“I could go for some chips,” Rose laughed. “Might as well, seeing as you’re paying...” Rather than react to the money being waved under his nose, the Doctor smiled at her softly. “What?”

“I’m glad to see that you’re interested in food again,” he said quietly. “Even if it’s only deep-fried potatoes at present. Don’t think I didn’t notice that you hardly ever ate anything for the first few weeks we traveled together.”

“You never said anything,” Rose murmured, eyes wide. He shrugged. 

“I didn’t really know you all that well. Or the limitations of your species, for that matter.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I had concerns of course, but I would rather have been certain before I did anything too rash. Eating disorders are a tricky disease to treat. Care, support, and patience. I didn’t want to put you off when it might have been important for me to be there for you later.” They were well on their way down the hill from the estate now on the long walk back to the TARDIS. 

“Most people- never mind, that comparison never checks out with you. I just...” Rose sighed. “Food was scarce in the desert, y’know? Started out trying to stretch supplies, but then I realized I really didn’t need much to live, and...” she shrugged, looking uncomfortable.

“And... what?” He murmured, arching an eyebrow. 

“Since I started traveling with you I’ve figured out that there’s a huge difference between living and surviving. I don’t ever want to have to settle for something ever again if I don’t have to.” With that, she clasped her fingers in his and lightly tugged him along. 

“Oh my God, that uniform,” Rose laughed. The Doctor, who had been walking back from the headmaster’s office after needing to finalize some paperwork with Turlough, paused in the doorway when he saw his oldest Earth friend and his companion sitting side by side on the couch looking at what appeared to be a scrapbook. Curious, he wandered over and peered over their shoulders only to pale at the pictures.

“Yes, that was during the early days,” Alistair said with a slightly embarrassed shrug. He pointed to a short scarecrow of a man with a black, messy Beatles haircut and sharp blue-grey eyes that looked more like an out of work musician than a soldier and smiled. “Very early days indeed.”

“What, he played the recorder?” Rose asked. The Doctor’s blood ran cold. She knew. “The Doctor used to play a recorder?”

“He didn’t in his next form, though that one had a rather touchy obsession with motorized vehicles,” Alistair mused. He turned a few pages and pointed at a much taller man with a lithe body and broad shoulders, an opera cape and velvet smoking jacket on almost at all times though in differing shades and patterns, many of them taken next to a bright yellow Roadster. “That car there, that’s Bessie.”

“Doctor, what was your hair trying to accomplish in that body?” Rose asked without preamble. Both Brigadier and Time Lord started at the unexpected comment and the Doctor leaned in closer to see what she was getting at.

“Afraid I don’t exactly follow your meaning,” he admitted nervously. Rose pointed to several photos in sequence. 

“Short, mostly dark brown with silver and grey. Then it got a touch longer, messier, and was all platinum blond. Finally, it was an unmanageable mess and completely white. Whose hair goes from brown and grey to platinum blond to white anyway?”

“Mine, apparently,” the Doctor replied, raising an eyebrow at the pictures. “That’s funny. You don’t really notice those kinds of things when you’re living through them, but that captures everything perfectly really. How strange...” he turned an inquisitive and apprehensive look on Rose. “You’re aware of Regeneration.”

“Turlough told me, on Titan,” she said with a shrug as she took in pictures of his fourth form and smiled at the manic Cheshire Cat grin with the brown curls and striped scarf staring back at her. “I asked, he answered.”

“You never said anything.”

“Why should I? That’s your business. If you wanted to share it with me, you would have. I never pretended _not _to know either.” He thought about that for a moment before nodding.

“I suppose that’s true.” There was a long period of introspective but increasingly uncomfortable silence before he spoke again in a vulnerable, small voice. “It doesn’t bother you?” Rose sighed and put down the scrapbook, her expression grave. 

“Doctor, I’m just telepathic enough to know that what makes a person isn’t what’s on the outside, or even how a person acts. Do I find it a little weird? Sure. But I’m not one to judge, considering that I watched my almost-completely amputated arm heal itself without a scratch in record time. Every species has a different means of self-preservation, yeah? No doubt you’d find mine a bit strange too if you ever had to watch.”

“...Fair enough,” the Doctor muttered, raising an eyebrow.

~§§~

“Turlough asleep?” The Doctor asked quietly. Rose nodded as she sat beside him in the doorway of the TARDIS, which was open to deep space and currently viewing a rather pretty nebula. 

“Yeah. He’s exhausted but happy to finally be rid of that school once and for all. Said he wanted to go somewhere tomorrow where we could burn all of his school jackets and ties. Maybe even the Bonfire of the Vanities?” The Doctor laughed and Rose joined in, wordlessly handing him a mug of tea that went unacknowledged save for an appreciative nod.

“Rose, what’s a Luna?” He asked without preamble. 

“A female Alpha, at least for my species,” Rose answered promptly. 

“How can you be sure?”

“Stubbe was an Alpha from the same species as me, remember? He got seriously messed up along the way, but the cultural influence was the same. Ileana was a Luna too.”

“That explains a lot,” the Doctor snorted. Rose hummed in agreement. 

“Thing is, makes me a bit different than regular Wolves. Faster, stronger... live longer... and other Wolves instinctively listen to me.”

“I find it odd that Wolves from other strains of Lycanthropy are affected by your strain’s hierarchical status,” he commented lightly. Rose shrugged. 

“No idea. If I knew that I’d also know what I was.”

“Yes, about that.” The Doctor shifted slightly so that he was able to look at her without turning his neck. “The Wolf at Torchwood Estate called you a Letoan Luna. And now that I know what a Luna is, I can update our search parameters.”

“Thanks,” Rose said softly. She smiled. “I know you don’t have to do this, so... it means a lot to me.”

“Least I could do after everything you’ve been through I think.” 

“Still... thanks.”

“You’re welcome. And thank you, for accepting my... chosen brand of self-preservation.”

“You’re welcome too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you may notice this doesn’t follow the episode too closely. Here’s why. One, the Fifth Doctor is different in how he addresses things than the Tenth. Two, Rose is clearly different. Three, where’s the fun in a strict adherence for me or for my readers? If I’m going to be tweaking things I might as well have a little fun while I’m here. 
> 
> Honestly, Cpt. Reynolds and Sir Robert dying was so unnecessary; Reynolds had plenty of time to follow them into the library, and while there wasn’t a way around Robert’s death in the original episode it was really easy to fix in this version. 
> 
> At the end a reference is made to Richard the Lionheart. This is taken from a First Doctor episode arc called ‘The Crusade,’ where (mainly) Ian and (a little bit) Barbara were knighted. The Doctor was somewhat annoyed that he wasn’t given one, but seeing as he was about to be executed he wasn’t really up for protesting at the time. 
> 
> Also, I forgot to mention this in the previous chapter but Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart is canonically the Doctor’s most cameoed non-companion. He first showed up during the Second Doctor’s tenure, played a substantial role in the Third Doctor’s tenure in what is best known as the ‘U.N.I.T. Years,’ and was somewhat routinely involved with the Fourth Doctor before Sarah Jane Smith left. He appeared in the Tenth and Twentieth Anniversaries of the show as well as the ‘Dimensions in Time’ 1993 Children in Need spoof, which served as a poor man’s Thirtieth Anniversary (it is the only time on screen Six and the Brig interact). 
> 
> The episode to which much of his current backstory for this fanfic pertains is called ‘Mawdryn Undead,’ which will also give you an idea of how Turlough came to travel in the TARDIS. 
> 
> Up Next: The Greatest Show in the Galaxy


	9. The Greatest Show in the Galaxy I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PART 1 OF 4
> 
> The stall owner, Peg, was previously unnamed in this episode, which comes from Season 25 of Classic Who. The actress playing her was named Peggy Mount. I thought it fit. The original characters were the Seventh Doctor, played by Sylvester McCoy, and Dorothy ‘Ace’ McShane, played by Sophie Aldred.
> 
> I skipped ahead a few years, obviously. While I love having Rose and the Doctor get to know one another, Rose’s temperament and the Doctor’s in the current form are not exactly too open to sharing things that are potentially painful. Rose was in a very dark place when they found each other and needed a long while to begin to heal from that, and the Doctor was so used to being left behind that he didn’t want to risk opening himself up to someone who would just leave. But six years? Rose is finally ready to start opening up to people again, and the Doctor is just now beginning to realize that she won’t leave him like the others did. 
> 
> There’s room for letting trust in, to the deeper parts of oneself, at this point. Neither were in a position before for their respective reasons, and I wouldn’t have been able to do much with that. Now I can begin building past the foundations of their solid friendship, turning it into them being the best of friends, and as the tags suggest eventually more than that.

“Doctor, why are we here again?” Rose asked, leaning pointedly next to a sign advertising some sort of ‘Psychic Circus.’ The atmosphere was cool though the terrain was desert, dust and sparse vegetation intermingled with rocky outcroppings and sand dunes all spread out underneath an uninteresting greyish-blue sky. 

“Segonax,” the Doctor replied with a bright smile, surveying their surroundings with his hands shoved into his pockets. “Supposedly the home of the ‘Greatest Show in the Galaxy.’ You did say you wanted to go somewhere truly random for your two hundredth birthday, or was that simply a lure to prompt me into booking you into a day spa thinking you’d never guess what I was up to?”

“No, I definitely wanted somewhere random,” Rose countered with a flustered blush at having been caught out. “But why is Peri not here, again? She said she wanted to celebrate with us. Besides, botany finals at Uni or a space circus? Which do you think she’d prefer?” 

“The TARDIS... set the coordinates,” the Doctor explained. They shared a look.

“Oh... so maybe there’s something here that’ll help me figure out more about my Wolf side then?”

“She usually isn’t so adamant we go somewhere unless that’s the case,” the Doctor agreed. He leaned over slightly so that the top of her head brushed his chin, squinting to see what the sun-bleached sign said in its entirety. “Truth be told I tried seven times to get her to pack up and relocate to the resort on Jesda Minor. In case you were wondering about my ability to pick up on your subtle cues.” 

“Appreciate it,” Rose murmured, also eyeing the sign with new interest. It was propped on ageing wooden stilts nearby a vaguely decrepit stall selling what appeared to be fruits of some sort next to a dirt track in the middle of, quite literally, nowhere though the owner was currently absent. She glanced at their surroundings and grimaced. “Cheery place.” 

“Yes... I took the liberty of reading the usual propaganda when it became obvious the TARDIS was refusing to move,” the Doctor commented. His entire demeanor screamed ‘unimpressed.’ “It was much greener in the pamphlet.”

“Gasp, junk mail that isn’t truthful about what it’s advertising?” Rose exclaimed in mock horror, laying a hand over her heart. “What _is _the universe coming to?”

“I’m merely saying that someone has been trying awfully hard to attract business,” the Doctor sighed with an exasperated eye roll. 

“Here, you two!” An angry voice shouted. They both whipped their heads round to take in the elderly woman with the seemingly-permanent scowl shuffling towards them. “I don’ serve your kind at my stall!” 

“And what kind would that be?” The Doctor asked politely, smiling. 

“Weirdos! Can tell by the way yer dressed!” The smile fell. 

“I beg your pardon?” The woman glanced at Rose, who was wearing a soft blue sweater over a slate grey tee shirt and a pair of faded but form-fitting jeans before turning back to the Doctor, who was in his usual Cricketer and Celery ensemble.

“Not her, she’s normal. But you... what’re you trying to be, anyway?”

“Is it the jumper?” He asked Rose, worried. “I had to find a new one after the last one got that instant cement on it and the red stripe is a slightly different shade.” Rose stifled a giggle and turned to the woman with a grin. 

“Ignore him, he’s a man out of his time.” She extended her hand. “I’m Rose Tyler, that’s the Doctor. And you are...?” 

“Am not,” the Doctor muttered sullenly as the woman smirked. 

“Peg!” She said as she shook Rose’s hand a tad more enthusiastically than she had been when looking at their presence just a few minutes prior. “Don’t get much civilized folk come through here, this makes a nice change. Even you,” she added, turning to shake the Doctor’s hand, whose jaw clenched ever so slightly as he accepted the small peace offering such as it was. 

“Pleasure,” he said with false enthusiasm. Peg’s eyes practically glittered with sadistic glee at his expense. 

“Can I get ya anything, dearies? Some of the local vegetation, perhaps?”

“Y’got anything alcoholic?” Rose asked. The Doctor raised an eyebrow and she winked. “I’m _legal _now, after all.” 

“You’ve been legal for 182 years,” he scoffed. She leaned forward and nudged him in the shoulder. 

“Yeah, but now I’m legal on _Gallifrey_,” she teased. When Peg returned with something that had no other scent except for hypervodka she presented her unlimited chrome credit stick and moved to sit at one of the few sand-covered tables in the vicinity. The Doctor declined anything aside from an ice water and moved to sit across from her, raising an eyebrow when she left her beverage entirely untouched.

“What, you bought it for the aesthetic?” He asked with a teasing grin, which faded slightly as something he’d come to recognize as ‘the painful past’ flickered momentarily through her eyes. “Oh.” 

“Maybe we can find a voting booth somewhere,” she suggested. “Know any candidates for your local?”

“What local?” He scoffed, grateful to change the subject and that he was able to do so without any awkwardness. “I don’t have a permanent address.”

“What, no absentee slip?” 

“‘Absentee slip,’” he repeated, deadpan. “On a planet that actively looks down upon leaving the upper atmosphere. Unlikely.” They both broke out into matching grins, though hers shifted to accompany her tongue between her teeth and he briefly flashed some pearly - though slightly crooked - teeth of his own. “Have you heard from Turlough recently? I know the two of you decided to keep in touch...”

“Yeah, he wished me a very happy birthday,” Rose said with a soft if somewhat sad smile. “Mentioned something about teaching his brother how to ski. Or something similar. Truthfully, I didn’t want to ask. But he seems happy. Like he’s found his purpose, raising his brother and teaching him all about their planet. Why do you ask?”

“Dunno,” the Doctor murmured evasively, taking a sip of his water and toeing the ground with his shoe. He grimaced at the glass as if it had personally offended him and set it down just enough in the middle of the table that it was obvious he had no intention of picking it up again. “Unless it’s Alistair, I don’t really... look back on my traveling companions. And that’s mainly because of his connection to U.N.I.T. and propensity for getting into situations more than anything else.” 

“Maybe it’s time to stop,” Rose suggested quietly. He raised a tawny eyebrow and she shrugged. “You’ve never done what you’ve done with Peri before, either, yeah? Where she takes breaks from Uni to go traveling with us, but still lives out her life on Earth? That’s new.”

“And entirely your influence,” the Doctor pointed out with an attempted stern expression. “You simply gave her your mobile number after I was mistakenly kind enough to jiggery-poke it for you, and now look where that’s got me.”

“With a companion who’s happy to be here, who loves to explore space, and enjoys your company?” Rose raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I can see why an actual relationship built on compromise would be a terrible thing.” His shoulders slumped slightly. 

“I’m not good at actual relationships, Rose,” he sighed. “They make me edgy, uncomfortable. Mostly because, whenever I thought I was finally getting somewhere with people, they’d leave or show that they never actually cared about me or some other such thing. And, if by some miracle someone recognized I had feelings just like anyone else, I’d put my foot in it and royally mess things up in my typical fashion.” His voice hardened slightly as sarcasm dripped into the conversation. “So I’m sorry if I act a tad gun-shy, but repetitive rejection will do that to a person.”

“Hey, look at me,” she said. Her voice was firm, neither soft nor harsh, but he felt compelled to respond to it all the same. Their eyes met over the table and he felt something coil in anxious anticipation in the pit of his stomach. Not the good kind, either. Rose leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the table. “I’ve been with you for six years now. I’m not leaving anytime soon. Relationships, the good ones, hurt sometimes, and need upkeep.”

“...Six years?” The Doctor whispered after a long silence. “Has it already been that long?”

“Yep. Well. More like five and a half. But still.” Her eyes seemed to sparkle with amusement at the genuine surprise on his face. “I like traveling, Doctor. Love it, in fact. But it’s better...”

“With two?” He finished, a smile gracing his face as they eased into familiar territory. Rose bit her lip and nodded. 

“Or maybe it’s just better with you,” she amended with a tongue in teeth grin. “Very own universal tour guide, free of charge, and you always come through despite the fact that we never actually know where we’re going...”

“That sounds like an insult,” he muttered with a grin, “but I’ll choose to take it as a compliment on my supreme adaptability.”

“Of course you will.” Rose rolled her eyes and leant forward to sniff his water, withdrawing with a scowl. “By the way, you really don’t want to know what’s mixed in with that.” 

“If it’s worth anything by saying it, I think it’s better with you as well,” the Doctor replied somewhat quietly, ignoring her comment on his so-called ‘water.’ “It’s been a while since someone other than Romana, a Time Lord like myself, saw me as a person rather than a distant, ancient alien too highly above the concept of emotions to properly understand them.”

“It helps when you’re two centuries old,” Rose shrugged, though the tenderness in her voice belied the nonchalance. “All about perspective.”

“That it is.” She seemed about to say something else when her left ear twitched slightly, and by now accustomed to following her line of vision he turned to look in the same direction as she was. Not long after he too could hear the telltale sounds of a souped-up engine roaring down the dusty dirt track in the opposite direction from where they’d parked the TARDIS, and after a few moments they could see a large dust cloud billowing out over the crest of a sparsely-covered brown grass and sandy dirt hill. 

“I shouldn’t think a motorbike would do well with this kind of terrain,” he mused. Rose snorted at that and answered the raised, inquisitive eyebrow before he’d had the chance to ask the question; they truly _had _been together for quite a while, he realized, when he knew all her tics and mannerisms just as well as she did his, which was just about as well as they knew themselves. 

“You probably can’t hear it yet, but from the sound of things I’d say the guy has a trike bike,” she explained. 

“That’s an actual thing?” 

“Oh yeah. Hell’s Angels wannabe with no sense of balance I’d wager, judging by the condition of his muffler.”

“Or lack thereof?” The Doctor guessed. Rose shrugged, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. They exchanged a short glance when the thing came into view. “What on _Earth _is he wearing on his head!?” 

“Another one of your lot,” Peg muttered derisively as she mixed something noxious-smelling together and cast a glance at his head.

“For the last time, _madam_, I am a _Doctor,_” the Doctor said, voice entirely too even and congenial to match the annoyance in his expression - though the clipped neutral tones did the trick. “An entirely _respectable _individual, I think you’ll find- Rose, stop laughing- and if you possibly help us to locate any nearby Wolves, I would be incredibly grateful.”

“I ain’t seen no wolves round here,” Peg said thoughtfully. “Not a one.” The Time Lord deflated somewhat.

“Ah. Oh, well. We’ll just have to go looking ourselves then.” He glanced over at the Trike, which had stalled with thick black smoke pouring out of it, as Rose stood from their table and walked over. 

“Hey mate, need some help? I know a bit about combustive fuel and-“

“Shove off little missie,” the man grunted. He was bedecked head to toe in black leather, complete with a black leather ‘helmet’ that had great big _Batman_ Reject-style costume ears attached to the sides. Or was that _Black Lagoon? _Ah, well. It even had a chin strap, Lord knows what possessed the man to do so. The Trike itself was painted yellow on the fenders - which was about the only part of the thing not exposed to the elements - and the engine rested squarely underneath the torn seat right where all the gravel and dust of the road could get caught up inside of it to mess it up. To top it all off, the tires were thin and obviously stolen from some sort of moped. 

“You what?” Rose asked flatly, eyeing the eyesore over. The Doctor stifled a snicker.

“You heard, shove. Off. I don’t need no priss up in my engine block.”

“You call _that _an engine block!?” Rose exclaimed. “Don’t make me laugh.”

“This happen a lot, sir?” Peg whispered as the pair devolved into a bickering match.

“More often than not,” the Doctor whispered back. “A pity, really, that I haven’t yet learned to bring popcorn when I exit the front door...” 

“I told you girl, _get lost!_” The man shouted suddenly, coming to tower over Rose and practically pressing their noses together as he invaded her personal space. “Or I’ll do something... ‘_orrible_ to your ears.”

“Chance’d be a fine thing,” the Doctor sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets as Rose’s nostrils flared. “And five, four, three, two...” on the count of ‘one,’ her fist reared back and struck the bloke squarely in the solar plexus. He crumpled to the ground with a wheeze and she stepped over him as if her were no more than a bundle of trash to get a better look at the trike. The Doctor _tsked_ but made no move to dissuade her, deftly avoiding the writhing pest in the dirt to stand beside her and get a good look at the mechanics.

“You know, you’d think people would learn to take a hint,” Rose commented lightly, almost as if they were merely discussing the weather. “Sometimes I really, really hate that I’ll always look 19 for the rest of my life. People always underestimate me.”

“Know the feeling,” the Doctor quipped, just as lightly. “The blond hair, too. I think that contributes. Even when I was teeth and _brunet _curls and looked a bit older but acted far younger at times than I do now, people always considered me... formidable. Even if they thought I was a nuisance they never mistook me for a harmless one, not unless they were especially thick.”

“Yeah, it’s the ‘dumb blond’ thing,” Rose explained offhandedly with a shrug. He stiffened slightly to look at her with raised eyebrows.

“The _what!?_”

“Media plus perpetuated stereotype.” The elaboration was apparently insufficient. “So, James Bond right? Not saying that started all this but it’s the best example I can come up with at present. Had all these girls hanging on his every word, right?”

“Well, and off his arms, but that’s neither here nor there...”

“Exactly. But you get that ladies’ man of action, the spy is a stud, sorta thing. Stereotype. Now, dumb blond. Repeat the idea often enough that anybody with a specific hair color is stupid, and you get...”

“Your planet can be such a nuisance sometimes,” the Doctor growled in annoyance as he poked at the engine block. It was still smoking, and he knelt to fiddle with the valves on what appeared to be a needlessly elaborate venting system. 

“Don’t I know it,” she laughed, kneeling beside him to watch as he tinkered. He flinched as she ruffled his shaggy locks and looked at her accusingly only to be confronted with the formidable tongue-in-teeth grin that he had no suitable defense against. “Relax, _sandy_. I’m not gonna try and spring the kitchen shears on you again. It ended _so _well last time.” 

“Whatever you say, _honey_,” he laughed, tugging on a lock of her golden hair that had escaped from her double braids. They both repressed a shudder at the mention of The Event That Shall Not Be Documented In Either Diary and focused on the trike bike. “Where was he going in this thing? It’s not built for distance, that I can tell you right now.”

“He’ll have been going to the Psychic Circus,” Peg cut in. She was apparently unperturbed by the bloke squirming around in the dirt. “All the extraterrestrials go there.”

“So, if we’d find one anywhere, that’s the most likely place for a Wolf to be?” The Doctor asked, straightening and dusting his trousers off. 

“Exactly. We locals wouldn’t touch it with a barge pole.” She sniffed. “Only people ‘s up to no good go there.” 

“Well, how far is this apparently horrendous attraction?” Rose asked, coming to stand beside the Doctor and tilting her head to the side in curiosity.

“Oh, miles and miles,” Peg answered dismissively. 

“Well, we’ve got transport,” Rose said, nudging the unconscious man’s boot. “You wanna drive?”

“What, and we’ll just dump him on the back like it’s a luggage rack?” The Doctor asked, raising an eyebrow. She shrugged. 

“Why not?” 

“Why not indeed...” He turned to Peg as Rose unceremoniously heaved the bloke onto the back of his own trike and sat on the space left over. “That you ma’am. We’ll be on our way. Got some hunting to do.”

“I’d say good luck, but I don’ dish that out to fools lightly,” the woman responded. He flashed an insincere smile to hide his annoyance and tipped his hat before stuffing it into an interior coat pocket and climbing into the seat of the trike bike. 

“Off we go then.”

“Maybe this time they’ll be like me, and I can finally get some answers,” Rose breathed. The Doctor glanced at her over his shoulder with a slight frown as the engine roared to life; her tone sounded excited, her posture apprehensive. He gave her knee a slight comforting squeeze and then turned back to the steering wheel. With a sickening clunking noise they shifted gears and took off, a rooster tail of disturbed dust exploding behind them. 

It wasn’t far down the road that they had to swerve violently to the side to avoid the thundering cab car going in the opposite direction, an act which knocked their passenger into the dirt. 

“So it really is just any type of vehicle with you, isn’t it?” Rose teased as she hopped off to put their charge back on the bike. Normally such a jibe would elicit a reaction, and when she got none she looked up to see the Doctor sitting very still in the driver’s seat with a pensive expression on his face. “Oh, I know that look. What’s up?” 

“Something...” he frowned, getting out to walk a few paces to the side, and knelt low to the ground with his hand pressed into the chalky sand. “Something evil, I think. Strange...”

“Sensing a convergence of traumatic timelines again?” Rose asked sympathetically. 

“Possibly. But I don’t think so. This is more... like residual telepathic ravaging, the echoes at least. I don’t know if you can, but you might be able to feel it too if that’s the case.”

“Don’t feel anything, sorry. But it must be timelines then, because we pick up the same stuff if it’s that potent telepathically.”

“True.” They both startled as the bike suddenly revved into action and took off, coating them in a fine layer of dust. “And you call me rude.”

“I mean, we _did _sorta steal his bike after I punched him in the stomach.”

“Still, we were kind enough to offer him a lift,” the Doctor sniffed, standing and brushing himself off. Rose was doing the same nearby, and after a few moments they worked on helping one another reach the spots neither could get at on their own between the shoulder blades. “So, what now? It’s a bit of a walk to... anywhere.”

“We could start with that tent over there,” Rose suggested. She had climbed a small embankment and was peering at something out of his ability to spot. “Somebody’s digging at something, might be transport got caught in a sand pit.” 

“Better than no direction at all I suppose.” He followed her step for step, more confident in her abilities at spotting solid terrain than his own considering that the seventeen senses they shared out of his total twenty-seven were more finely-tuned. Regardless, he slipped once on a loose stone and had to regain his footing. The closer they approached, the more Rose seemed to slow her pace. “Something the matter?”

“Not lookin’ forward to meeting that bloke that think’s he’s Mr. Crusoe,” Rose muttered. “Bit full of ‘imself and all.”

“Okay, what’s really bothering you?” The Doctor sighed, lightly gripping her arm and making them come to a halt. She shrugged and he raised an eyebrow. “Come on. Your accent isn’t half that thick unless you’re anxious over something.”

“He just... he reminds me a bit of that bloke we ran into on Telnex, yeah?” Dawning comprehension broke across his features.

“Ah... the one that wanted to sell you to the Emperor as a pet.”

“Or failing that, as the main course,” Rose snorted. 

“Well, this one won’t get the chance.”

“Ooh, carrying your cricket bat again?” 

“No,” he sighed, the vowel drawn-out on the exhale as he shot her an exasperated look and nudged her arm with his hand. His fingers trailed down until they caught and twined with hers as they resumed walking. “But as captain of the TARDIS I think I’m entitled to lay labor claim on a crew member.”

“Taking me on full time then? No more mere passenger?” She was spared a quick side glance at the blasé comment and nothing more.

“Miss Tyler, I think it’s safe to say that you were never a ‘mere passenger’ to begin with.” 

“I was probably the first person to have visited that valley at the very least in several millenia,” a rather posh, gentlemanly voice Rose usually attributed to the ‘old boys’ club’ was saying as they walked up. He was dressed in the classical Imperial British attire, the tall boots and tan uniform, the hard hat with the wide brim and the little cloth-covered button on its top. His grey hair was so light it was almost white, and he was sporting a truly magnificent mustache. Not one that could properly rival the Brigadier’s mind, but it easily would have put Rose’s granddad Prentice’s to shame. 

“That so?” A young woman asked quietly. She was on her hands and knees pawing half-heartedly at some sort of metal object buried deep in the sand, her hair short in a staggered way so that it resembled quills on the back of her head but long on the lower layer. Almost a mullet but too strange to be defined that way. Brown, with the tips fading into green. What was more, it didn’t appear to be gelled or dyed but rather natural. Her clothing was nondescript and dark, her makeup scarce except for a few heavy lines around her eyes that made her dark, large-pupiled eyes seem more animalistic.

“Well, you see that’s why this is merely a stop-off on the way home as far as I’m concerned,” the Captain continued. “And I-“

“Captain...” He glanced over where the woman was staring and smiled jovially. 

“Hello, my friend! Captain Cook, intergalactic explorer.”

“How do you do?” The Doctor replied with a bright smile, taking off his hat and nodding at the woman still sitting in the dirt. She flashed a tentative smile in response. “I’m the Doctor and this is Rose Tyler. Who might your charming companion be, might I ask?” 

“Mags,” Mags said quietly, standing and dusting herself off. Rose approached her slowly; they regarded one another for a few moments with the end result being that both appeared far more apprehensive than when they’d begun. “Have you traveled far?”

“Don’t bother the gent my dear,” Cook sighed dismissively. He hadn’t even bothered acknowledging Rose. “No doubt you’ve heard of my exploits, sir.”

“The _gent_, as you called me, asked the kind lady,” the Doctor said evenly. “He also, as is considered proper in all forms of etiquette that you might seem to subscribe to, tipped his hat to your lady friend and expects you do the same in return. As for your reputation, I regret to say that it does not precede you.” Cook blinked.

“Yes... I was going to offer you some of my special blend of _rare, exotic _tea but seeing as you won’t be staying long I shan’t bother.” The two men exchanged equally false grins and nodded.

“Awful lot of posturing going on over there,” Rose commented as she went over and began helping Mags - who had gone back to her task - dig at the dirt. They were ignored by the men, who continued their facetiously-polite argument.

“The captain feels the need to compete with other adventurers,” Mags explained with a wry smile. “And from the sound of things he’s probably met his superior.”

“The Doctor’s a Time Lord, been alive seven times longer than Cook I shouldn’t wager and ‘s been traveling for the majority of it,” Rose explained. “Pretty sure any story Cook can come up with the Doctor can cite five better ones without even trying.”

“I’d heard of Time Lords back home, but it was always in legend and whispered tales of myth.” The two women leaned closer together conspiratorially. “Can they really change their appearance?”

“Yep. Haven’t seen it happen mind, but I’ve seen the pictures. This is his fifth body.” Rose eyed Mags over. “So, where’d you meet Cook then?”

“I... I come from the planet Vulpana,” she said hesitantly. When this got no response she continued on in a decidedly more confident manner. “He took me from my home as an example of some of the... _exotic rarities _he found on his travels.” They exchanged a grimace. “Treats me more like a servant or a- a _specimen _more than anything else. He-“

They were interrupted as the polite standoff continuing without them erupted as the Doctor lost his temper.

“No, I do _not _keep Rose for my ‘recreational purposes,’ _sir!_” The Doctor shouted. His eyes were blazing like blue fire as the taller man recoiled in surprise. “She is a valued member of my ship’s crew, certainly more for her brains than her looks because unlike some people I actually _value _intelligence that speaks its mind, and you’ll do well to remember it!”

“Keep your shirt on old boy, I was merely pointing out that-“

“Doctor, it’s fine,” Rose called over. His gaze met hers and his expression softened slightly even though his posture was still taut with angry tension. “I appreciate you defending my honor, I really do, but I don’t care what he thinks so really you’re just getting worked up over nothing. Now, come on and help us dig this hunk of metal out. Personally I’m curious as to what it is.” 

“I suppose,” he muttered, stalking over and crouching next to her. He accepted the small trowel handed to him and carefully dug around the metal object, his progress slowing as it gained definition. “Uh, beg pardon captain, but this appears to be some sort of giant robotic contraption. Should we really be messing with it?”

“My dear fellow, whatever are you talking about?” Cook laughed uproariously from where he was sitting under the tent, picture of the Imperial conqueror in his lawn chair and special China teacups. “It’s perfectly harmless!”

Magic words spoken, the robot suddenly reared upward in a tremendous explosion of sand with a metallic screech. It grabbed onto Mag’s ankle as she fell onto her back in surprise, and with a shout of alarm Rose raced forward to prise her new friend from its pincher grasp. 

“Harmless you say?” The Doctor quipped sarcastically as he dodged three or four laser blasts and went for the chest cavity, clinging on tight as the machine rocked back and forth. Rose growled in a decidedly lupine way as she fought the hydraulics and slowly began widening the metal claw with her bare hands. 

“Well, it really is remarkable!” Cook exclaimed, sipping at his tea in delight. “You don’t often see one like that!”

“Captain, I believe we run in _very _different circles,” the Doctor bit out through grit teeth. “Because this just so happens to be the _only _kind of robot I run into when our paths cross.” 

“Got it!” Rose exclaimed, proud of herself as the arm sparked and the claw sprang open. Mags shuffled backward as quickly as possible out of reach of the other arm and Rose ran over to the Doctor, leaping onto the chest and digging her fingers into the seam between the panel and the chassis and bending the metal as she tore it back. With a triumphant cry the Doctor reached his hand in and pulled out a massive clump of wiring. The robot jerked once, twice, and thrice before falling backwards and sending both Time Lord and Wolf sprawling forward. 

“Thank you Rose,” Mags called as she got up and dusted off her clothing. 

“Yeah, don’t mention it,” Rose muttered as she stood and pulled the Doctor to his feet. She smacked him lightly on the arm and he frowned at her.

“What was that for?”

“Make yourself a new Sonic Screwdriver,” she ordered. He rolled his eyes and pointedly began examining the wires in his hand. Next she turned toward Cook, who was staring at her with an odd gleam in her eye that she unfortunately knew all too well. “And _you_. Fat lot of good you were, just sitting there watching us try not to get killed. Discretion isn’t _always _the better part of valor, y’know.”

“What sort of species are you, anyway?” He asked, intrigued. “Quite the unique specimen you seem to be.”

“Terran,” she said shortly, turning on her heel and walking toward the small, muddy river. 

“I somehow doubt that,” Cook chuckled. The Doctor sighed and followed her, and shooting the man a grimace Mags followed after the pair. Faced with the possibility of ending up alone under his tent, Cook swallowed the dregs of his tea and marched down the hill. 

“Any particular direction we’re to be heading?” The Doctor asked pleasantly as he caught up to Rose and casually twined their fingers together. “Toward the circus, just by the scenic route?”

“Thought we should take a gander at what that cabbie was so worked up about first,” Rose said decisively, swinging their hands in no particular rhythm other than what struck her fancy. The Doctor grinned and knocked his shoulder against hers.

“See, this is why you’re an official crew member and no mere passenger.”

“Yeah, and now you can hire me on instead of using child labor,” Rose teased. They exchanged a light laugh as Mags caught up with them, her eyes trailing from one to the other with intrigued curiosity. 

“What’s so funny?” She asked.

“Inside joke, take too long to explain,” Rose replied not meaning anything by it. “You comin’ with us?”

“Figure anywhere with you is better than staying there with that... _thing_.” 

“That _thing_, my dear, is a wonderful example of-“

“So old hot air is after us is he?” Rose whispered to the Doctor, leaving Cook’s protest unheard. He suppressed a snicker. 

“He’s not all too different than some of my prior forms,” he protested without any bite behind it. There was amusement, actually. Rose shook her head.

“Nope. See, Mags didn’t want to go with him.”

“Neither did Ian and Barbara, and Tegan certainly didn’t at the start.”

“The difference is that you tried to get them back home even if you didn’t quite manage it to begin with.” She poked him lightly in the chest when he frowned. “And you certainly didn’t mean to take Tegan with you. I’ll concede that you actually _did _kidnap Ian and Barbara, but not because they were _unique specimens. _You didn’t really want them with you at first, you were just afraid for Susan.”

“I know for a fact I didn’t tell you even half of all that,” the Doctor muttered, kicking a loose stone and idly watching as it plopped into the muddy tan river. He threw her a suspicious look. “You’ve been talking to Alistair over the phone again, haven’t you?”

“Who, me?” Rose blinked innocently, something that made him narrow his eyes. “Never. Come on, Doctor. You’re the one that can’t handle not knowing something. My curiosity _never _gets the best of me.”

“See, you say that, but I really have to wonder if I’m the pot or the kettle in this conversation,” he retorted contemplatively. They both grinned, and as they rounded a corner his point was made. “What do we have here then?” 

“Curiosity killed the cat,” Mags sighed, equal parts amused, exasperated, and confused by her new companions as they both darted forward to get a better look at the strange vehicle half buried in the sand. 

“It’s obviously some sort of shrine,” Cook blustered importantly. “I saw one just like it on Dioscuros once.”

“It’s a bus,” Rose countered, the ‘you absolute moron’ entirely evident in her tone. “You paint the chassis with stuff on it to make it look nicer. Happens all the time in small communities where I’m from.” She frowned at the artwork, which depicted several people in strange clothing and had many bright colors. “Makes them more personalized, especially if you use the local culture. This one has some circus-y type work on it.” 

“For the Psychic Circus no doubt,” the Doctor murmured. That pensive look was back on his face. “Something terrible happened here, I think.” 

“I wonder how the two of you manage to explore anything,” Cook laughed. “Everything seems to alarm you so! And your lady friend, well. She’s a right stick in the mud, making the intriguing into the mundane.”

“Try surfing the solar reefs of Felicitas’ Crossing sometime,” Rose countered, crossing her arms. “Nothing between you and the radiation of three suns and the vacuum of space but a thin extrapolator shield mounted onto a flimsy solar surf board. Thrilling. We love adventure. It’s the trouble but we’re more cautious about. Always finds us, one way or another, and every once in a while we get sick of it and go on holiday.” She looked over her nose at him. “You strike me as more of a Gilderoy Lockhart.” 

“A... a what??” Cook asked, confused. The Doctor sneezed in what sounded suspiciously like a badly-aborted laugh as he rose up onto his tiptoes trying to see into the bus through the dirty windows. 

“You’re just itching to get inside, aren’t you?” Rose chuckled. He nodded. “Well, come on then.” Not needing to be told twice, he bounded enthusiastically up the steps and into the interior with Rose on his heels. 

The interior was much like the exterior, full of clashing but bright colors and objects. Small rugs lined the main walkway, which had tiny tables and comfortable-looking armchairs on either side situated in front of the windows. The tables were covered in small knickknacks of mostly-uninteresting variety. Handmade quilts adorned several of these and soft yellow light emanated from the ceiling. A skylight sat in the middle of the bus, and a large curtain hung at the back. 

“Told ya,” Rose chirped with a smug look at Cook. “Not a shrine. Just a custom bus.”

“Wonder if it’s still got fuel,” Mags murmured. “The keys are still in the ignition.” 

“I wouldn’t test that theory if I were you,” the Doctor commented mildly as he flipped through a pamphlet advertising restaurants at some unknown location. Everything had a fine coating of dust on it, and not the kind associated with tracking in sand through the door. 

“Poppycock.” Cook abruptly reached over and turned the key, frowning when nothing happened. They all looked up a few moments later as the curtain at the back moved, allowing a robot in an ill-fitting Ticketmaster’s uniform complete with skewed hat to step through. It’s face appeared painted on and quite badly too, the eyes merely a thick dot inside a circle and the mouth a flat line with an arcing line underneath it to give the appearance of a smile.

“Anymore fares, please?” It asked in a high-pitched but smooth, automated voice as it advanced toward them. “Anymore fares? No standing inside... hold tight, please...”

“It appears to be only functioning half-correctly,” the Doctor mused, unwilling to move from his spot behind the headrest of the driver’s seat. They all tensed as the robot pulled out what looked like a strange and futuristic rendition of a portable ticket machine and wound the crank. A bolt of electricity shot out, passing between the four harmlessly but obviously meaning business. 

“Eh, steady on old chap!” Cook muttered, backing against the open exterior door. The robot, upon being addressed, focused on him. 

“Fares please, hold on tight... ding! Ding!”

“No no no, you’ve got it wrong!” Cook stuttered, eyes wide as he pointed at the Doctor. “He’s the one paying the fares, not me!” At that, the robot turned. The Time Lord swallowed uncomfortably as Rose growled softly. She’d taken down one robot already, what was one more?

“I uh, I would like a ticket actually,” he said, smiling facetiously. Rose relaxed at this, by now intimately familiar with his antics, and rolled her eyes as he started talking at the equivalent of 500mph. “Two, there and back, super saver discount. Make one of them a senior citizen pass with the gold- no, no platinum- yearly subscription for free refills on tea and crumpets. Well, chop chop, haven’t got all day!” 

The robot paused as it processed the sheer amount of information it had been given and the smile turned genuine. 

“And might I see that ticket machine while you’re at it?” He finished softly, holding his hands out. The robot handed the device over and he turned it about this way and that for a few moments before promptly flipping it in the other direction and pressing a small lever on the side. There was a whir followed by a click, and then the electrical beam shot out and hit the robot squarely in the face. It glowed brightly red for a few moments as the metal heated, gears grinding, before it blew apart in a shower of sparks.

“Was all that babbledeegook really necessary?” Rose asked with a raised eyebrow. The Doctor shot her a look of mock-affront and adjusted his coat. 

“On the contrary, I’d say it was just the ticket,” he sniffed. Rose groaned and lowered her forehead onto the back of the seat, Mags quirking her eyebrow in disbelief. 

“Oh God, no. Not the puns. Not again.”

“What, you don’t think we’re on the right route?” He asked, grinning. 

“Is it always like this, traveling with the two of you?” Mags looked between the two of them with interest as he nodded enthusiastically and she simply raised her hand to give a thumbs-up. “Mm.” 

“What do you think, Rose? Should we invite her along?” The Doctor questioned with a raised eyebrow. Rose raised her head and nodded, smiling. 

“Yeah, if she wants. Anything’s better than Captain Kook after all.”

“That’s ‘Cook,’” he corrected. She shrugged.

“What’s the difference?” 

“Touché.” 

“You’re very kind, but I’m afraid I have to decline,” Mags said quickly to avoid the start-up of another round of bantering. They both appeared surprised at her response and maybe a tiny bit hurt, so she hastened to explain. “I’m afraid I don’t do well on spacecraft. I asked to be taken here so I could join up, as it were.”

“Oh I see,” the Doctor said a few moments later, expression clearing and looking a bit sympathetic. “Claustrophobia, or Astrophobia?”

“Something like that,” she murmured quietly, drawing in on herself. 

“Well, just think about it?” Rose said kindly, touching her on the shoulder before giving the Doctor a meaningful look and walking outside. Once there she frowned at the ground, stalking this way and that as she followed something. 

“Got a trail?” He asked. She nodded.

“Y’know, I can’t figure why she’d want to stay here.”

“Oh I don’t know, I thought about running away and joining a circus quite a lot in my youth,” he quipped. 

“You would.”

“Yes, _thank you Rose_. My point is that trying to escape a troubled past usually incites a draw toward a group of nomadic misfits.”

“Explains why you’re such a popular chauffeur, then.”

“Oi!” Rose straightened up abruptly at that, giving him a strange look, even as he drew up short at the exclamation himself.

“‘Oi’?” She repeated questioningly, the corners of her lips turning up in the beginnings of a grin.

“Think you’re beginning to rub off on me,” the Doctor grumbled in false bad temper as he strode a little ways further from the bus. “Starting to mimic some of your mannerisms. Hear something often enough, begin to speak the lingo.”

“U.N.I.T. you must have been an adorable copycat of the Brig,” Rose needled. 

“Hardly anything of the sort,” he scoffed. His eyes then widened slightly as he remembered that the pair of them chatted on a semi-regular basis and she could check his claim, moving quickly to find anything to change the subject. Spotting a glint of something metal in the dirt, he knelt back on his heels and pawed a bit to unearth the object. “What have we here?”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Rose commented as she came up to peer over his shoulder. 

“You think so?” He held it up for her to grab and she turned it over a few times in her fingers, not bothered in the slightest that he was watching her with such intensity he would have been able to make dictators squirm. The object was a circular medallion, gold, and was shaped like a spiral.

“Yeah. ‘S weird, but pretty. Might be a nice souvenir for my room. Might even give it to Peri if she’s too put out at missing all the fun.”

“Mm.”

“Still sensing that indeterminate evil?” Rose asked sympathetically. The Doctor nodded, the tenseness in his shoulders giving away far more than most would have noticed. “Think it’s connected to the Circus?”

“No, but I think the Circus is caught up in it either unwittingly or other,” he sighed, standing. “Something had to happen to the bus. It didn’t just break down. And as you so helpfully pointed out, it’s covered in a Circus motif. Either the bus ferried customers or it belonged to the company itself.”

“D’you know, I think I want to watch a show?” Rose quipped, flashing a tongue-touched grin. He matched her with one of his own slightly crooked smiles and offered her his arm, which she immediately accepted as they walked back toward the main road. 

“Anything for the birthday girl.” 

The walk was a short one, ending with a massive striped tent pitched on a flat terrain of the otherwise-uninteresting landscape with the massive pink-tinged nearby planet and its white rings hanging low in the sky behind it.

“Can’t deny they’ve got style,” Rose whistled as they headed for the big tent. “Bit flash, really.” 

“‘Flash’ she says,” the Doctor muttered, rolling his eyes. “I take her to see the explosion of Betelgeuse up close and personal and nothing, but a simple bit of product placement with the natural surroundings and she ‘Oos’ and ‘Ahs.’ I give up.”

“Shove off,” Rose laughed. She suddenly went pale, eyes widening, as she stopped dead. “Doctor, someone’s screaming in there. And not in a fun way.” Her brow furrowed. “It’s gone now, but not- it was abrupt.”

“Like it was cut off?” He asked in a low voice.” She nodded. “Right... I say we go in, acting like nothing is the matter, but keep a sharp lookout.”

“Count on it.” 

“Ready?” Slight hesitation found its way into her features and she sought his hand, twining their fingers together. The hesitation faded.

“Now I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuing on (sort of) from the A/N at the start of the chapter:
> 
> So, attachment and abandonment issues. This may be a hard concept to understand for exclusively New Who fans, but in Classic Who departures were different. Whereas in New Who either the Doctor leaves a Companion behind or they die (excluding Martha who left but hey her family was tortured for a year and she was put through Hell so who can blame her), Classic was the other way around. Save for Sarah Jane Smith - who, by the way, was quite angry with him and threatened to leave and he was upset because he had to leave her - know what, she’ll show up someday and I’ll go into better explanation then - most of the Doctor’s Companions left him. Let me sum up.
> 
> FIRST DOCTOR: Susan was left behind, in what was admittedly a misguided sense of justified intent on the Doctor’s part that he thought he knew better, but his intentions were solid. He wanted her to be free to be with the man she’d fallen in love with and knew she was unwilling to leave. Not asking her doesn’t justify it, though. Ian and Barbara asked to be taken home, and he actually didn’t want them to leave but eventually had to let them go. Vicki left because she wanted to stay at Troy, of all places. Steven ended up on a distant world. Technically he was both left behind and left of his own free will, because the Doctor suggested he stay and he agreed. Dodo left because she wanted to.
> 
> SECOND DOCTOR: Ben and Polly decided to stay behind when they landed at Heathrow. Victoria decided to stay behind when they landed in the 1960’s, and Jamie and Zoe were forced to forget him by the Time Lords. 
> 
> THIRD DOCTOR: Liz left; the understanding was that the job was temporary. Jo left to get married and that really cut him up, I must say. Yates kinda went cuckoo but straightened himself out in the end, and he and Benton were never proper companions anyway, and as we all know the Brigadier was always there throughout the Classic series after that. 
> 
> FOURTH DOCTOR: Harry wanted to stay behind in Scotland to help the Brig, having been taken aboard on accident anyway. Sarah... yes, he left her and never came back. Again, it’s complicated, and I’ll go and elaborate far later down the line. Leela ended up marrying a Time Lord named Andred on Gallifrey and took the first version of K-9 with her, so he had to build himself a new robot dog. Romana stayed for a while, regenerating, before eventually deciding to stay in E-Space because otherwise she’d have to go back to Gallifrey. And yes, she took the dog with her again so he gave up on trying to even keep a robotic pet around.
> 
> FIFTH DOCTOR: Adric... died. Nyssa decided to stay on a plague ship and help people, and Tegan (after a terrible, traumatic time with Daleks and everything that happened with the Mara) actually ran from the TARDIS in tears. Turlough decided to leave when he met his younger brother as they were the only family they had left, and his exile from his home planet had been repealed. 
> 
> SIXTH DOCTOR: Peri is the paradox companion. Either she died, or she left to marry somebody (with the truth eventually being revealed that the latter had happened rather than the former).
> 
> SEVENTH DOCTOR: Mel decided to leave and travel with someone else, and while it never happened in the show Ace decided to leave too. 
> 
> EIGHTH DOCTOR: He never had proper companions on screen, but in the Big Finish content they either left him or died, poor guy. 
> 
> See? Things were different in Classic Who. Did the Doctor ever go back and check on them after they’d gone? No. But if they all left, the understanding from his point of view would have been that they didn’t want him to considering none of them said ‘don’t be a stranger’ when they left. Russell T. Davies’ tenure was far better than Moffat’s in my opinion, but the way he interpreted the Doctor and his companions made me so angry. Obviously I am a DoctorxRose shipper and I ship them hard, but discrediting the other companions for a moment of angst was not okay. Sarah was not handled well when discussing her departure from the show when she came back for the cameo in the reboot, and RTD made a mistake in saying that the Doctor more often than not leaves people behind. As I have clearly pointed out, the few and rare occasions he did so are far outmatched by the number of times people left him. 
> 
> So, by the time I’m writing this part of the story, Five has had three companions leave him (one in tears) and a fourth one die, and that doesn’t include anyone from his previous lives. As for Rose, she’s been isolated and shunned for a good 180 years give or take. Who wouldn’t be traumatized with attachment issues by that point? By jumping ahead six years some of that fear on both sides has faded to let people in.
> 
> Sorry for the insanely long Author’s Note, and thank you for coming to my TED Talk.


	10. The Greatest Show in the Galaxy II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI I may be having trouble writing this arc simply because I’m dragging my heels over having to write the one that comes after (Classic Who fans, you’ll know why as soon as you see the title preview at the end of part 4). 

As they approached the tent, they were greeted by a clown. He smiled widely at them both painted and unpainted, beckoning with his arm, and Rose growled softly. The Doctor was close enough to catch it and he merely arched an eyebrow. 

“Not a fan of clowns then?” He whispered as they were led through the opening of the tent.

“On a good day, no. On a day where the circus might be evil, yes.”

“Fair dues.” 

Standing next to the ticket booth was a woman dressed as a stereotypical gypsy medium, her dark hair curly and tied in a bandana with a colorful yet haphazard dress and shawl. She gave a short nod as they entered, and the Doctor doffed his Panama hat politely before folding it and sticking it into his coat.

“Welcome, one and all, to the Psychic Circus!”

“Good day, madam,” he said with a smile in response to the greeting. She paused for a moment, straightening with pleasure at the civility, and swept her sharp eyes over Rose. 

“Two tickets, yes? One for you and your...” the lack of a ring on her finger... “girlfriend?”

“Ah...” the Doctor’s face reddened as Rose snickered into her hand and watched him with sparkling eyes, enjoying his discomfort. “Friend, actually. No ‘girl’ attached to the front of that. I mean, for starters, she’s a woman. Not that that has anything to do with the idea of her being my girlfriend, because it doesn’t, it’s just that we’re rather good friends in the general sense-“ he grimaced as Rose elbowed him in the ribs to stop the onset of chronic discomfort-induced rambling. “But I digress. Two tickets would be lovely, thank you.” 

Rose paid and got them as he abruptly turned away from the medium with tense shoulders, and the woman winked at her with a sly grin that Rose returned full force. 

“So, I’m guessing you’re the fortune teller of the lot then?” She asked pleasantly as she pocketed the tickets. 

“I am. Would you like to know yours?”

“Nah. I used to be of the mindset that I had everything planned out, and then it all turned out so different from what I expected. I don’t bother attempting to see what life’s got in store for me anymore, s’ like tempting fate to prove itself wrong or something.”

“I understand. And, what of your gentleman friend?” The Doctor’s tiny squeak of embarrassment went acknowledged by the two ladies only insofar as they exchanged another grin. 

“Oh, he’s worse than I am with all of that, trust me. It would be a bad idea.”

“Hm.” The medium nodded, putting her cards back under the counter of the ticket booth. “Suit yourself.” She leaned in closer. “But I will say this for free, dearie. I’d keep that one if I were you. Sensitive _and _a looker. Rare combination.” It was Rose’s turn to blush from the tips of her ears to the tips of her toes, and she nodded sharply before grabbing the Doctor’s arm and dragging him into the tent.

“What did she say?” He asked, confused. 

“Nothing,” Rose replied far too quickly, the pitch of her voice half an octave higher than usual. She cleared her throat and resumed in her typical speaking voice. “We should find our seats before the show starts.” The Doctor stared at her for a few moments and she huffed. “She was checking you out, if you must know. And she quite liked what she saw.” 

“Oh.” The blush that had started to fade was back in full force on his cheeks and he quickly looked at the ceiling of the tented tunnel they were currently walking down. “I uh, I see.”

“Told you to leave well enough alone. Curiosity killed the cat, Doctor.” 

“Yes, well. Not all cats have thirteen lives, now do they?” 

“You’ve only got eight left, mister.” He sniffed, uncomfortable as he usually was when the subject of mortality was so blatantly discussed. He paused for a moment, brow furrowing, as something occurred to him, and he swallowed a few times before picking up the pace to get into the crowd. Rose matched him stride for stride and watched him, confused. “What? What did I say?”

“Nothing, Rose. Nothing I... it’s just come to my attention that our roles are somewhat, well, reversed,” the Doctor sighed.

“How so?”

“Usually, I’m the one that’s hardest to kill with the longest lifespan. When it comes to us, my dear, that’s you.” He paused for a few moments, scuffing the ground with his shoe, before continuing resolutely on. “Someday I’ll be gone and you’ll still be out there. It’s just strange is all, seeing things from the other perspective. And not a bit depressing.” 

“Well, I won’t leave you,” she decided definitively. “Some friendships are worth the heartbreak when that person’s gone.” As she pushed into the big tent he watched her with wide, sorrowful blue eyes and took a shuddering breath before following in her steps. What he’d done to deserve that kind of devotion, he was absolutely certain he’d never know. He certainly hadn’t done anything different than when the others had traveled with him, and _they’d _all left. 

“Still- Oh. It’s rather dark in here, isn’t it?” He asked lightly, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets. 

As a matter of fact, it was pitch black. What little light was given off by the open archway behind them was snuffed out as the fabric was pulled over it, and they were left standing in absolute void. He groped about for a few moments before finding Rose’s hand and kept a tight grip, trusting her to be able to see better than he could on default. 

“Let’s go to the left,” she whispered. “There’s some creepy family over on the right that look a bit... uh... makes my fur crawl.”

“Mm... are there stairs?” He murmured back. Neither felt comfortable raising the volume any higher, some unspoken rule forbidding them from doing so. “I’d rather not trip over anything and land smack in the center of the ring at just the moment when they let the tigers out.”

“...I think it’s a testament to your Karma level how many times things like that actually happen to you, just saying.”

“But I haven’t done anything! ...Yet.” 

“Knock on wood.”

“If I could _see _any wood to knock, I would,” came the annoyed reply. Rose rolled her eyes as she carefully led the Doctor up into the stands and sat down, biting back a laugh as he tripped over her foot and soft, chiming Gallifreyan issued from his lips. He only ever spoke the untranslatable language when he swore, to give the appearance of refinement, but all it did was alert her to the fact that he was swearing. “Why is it so- don’t you dare laugh, Rose Tyler.” 

“Hello Darkness My Old Friend...”

“...I forgot you lived through Meme Culture.” They both glanced over at the other side of the tent where the apparently-creepy family was, Rose just able to pick out their clothing as the girl whined on about ice cream to a stern father telling her no, and the Doctor squinted with a huff at how dark it was. Not for the first time since he’d met Rose, his ‘superior’ Time Lord physiology was failing him. What a humbling thing it was, traveling with a Letoan Werewolf...

“Ooh, creepy...”

“What is?”

“There’s nobody else here. Just you, me, the mum dad and daughter. No Mags, no annoying captains. No other audience. I don’t like it, Doctor. ‘S weird. I’ve got this feeling something very not good is going on.”

“We could always ask them, now couldn’t we?” He said pleasantly, making to stand and letting out an ‘oof’ as he smacked into her outstretched arm, unbalancing and landing unceremoniously right back in his seat. “Rose.” 

“Watch ‘em for a bit first, yeah? Maybe you won’t be so keen once you’ve seen them properly.”

“But I don’t- oh, I see what you mean,” he muttered as the lights suddenly came on, the carnival music blaring out of speakers as a horde of painted and brightly-garbed performers strode out into the center ring. “Yes, it’s something to do with the eyes... sort of, of ‘dead,’ for lack of a better term. Though I’m not sure how else to describe something that has no soul...” 

“Quit frowning at them, they’ll see you,” Rose hissed around a false smile as she pointedly directed her attention to the circus performance. 

The clowns, having finished their dance, made room for the ringmaster to stride in. He had bright red pants and top hat to contrast with the metallic gold bow tie and rich blue of his waistcoat, the lapels bedecked in shimmering rainbow stripes. Everything complimented his dark complexion and he grinned as he struck his whip against the floor, which with the light had the yellow words ‘The Greatest Show in the Galaxy’ stamped across it like a blue seal and sun rays sprouting out from it. The Ringmaster danced a small jig across the floor and the sound system began playing a beat. He then began to sing, well. Sort of rap, sort of not. 

It wasn’t quite Hip Hop either. But Rose grinned as the Doctor groaned; he hated this type of music. Something about more shouting than rhythm or some such, though he had taken her to see _Hamilton _several times and had rather enjoyed himself (which was a little bit hypocritical but there were plenty of people who went the same way, so maybe _Hamilton _was just the exception or something). 

“Now welcome folks, I mean it from the heart, because the greatest show, is about to start. It’s happening before your very eyes, and one thing’s for sure, you’re in for quite a surprise. But then nothing’s quite, as it seems to be, at the greatest show in the galaxy.” Ringmaster adjusted something on one of the clown’s backs and it moved, doing a backflip. 

“Robotics,” the Doctor breathed quietly. He nodded nigh-imperceptibly toward several grey stones with runic writing on them. “Wonder what those memorial markers are for as well...”

“Shh,” Rose whispered.

“Now welcome folks, we’ve got a great new act,” Ringmaster continued. “They’re a real find, and no doubt that’s a fact, they’ll entertain you, they’ll make you stare, and our great new act, is seated over there!” Both Rose and the Doctor stiffened as he suddenly pointed at them, a spotlight coming on and all.

“Um... pass?” Rose muttered, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. 

“Seconded,” the Doctor echoed. They both looked like deer caught in the headlights of a rapidly-oncoming car. The Ringmaster snickered.

“Don’t be shy, you’re well-credited!” He laughed. 

“Maybe I wasn’t entirely clear,” Rose growled. “Hell No.” 

“You never try, you never grow.” 

“I think what my friend is trying to say is that she- that, is, both of us- would rather watch,” the Doctor said with a nervous glance at the family. Ringmaster made a sweeping gesture at the robotic clowns. 

“Sure you don’t want to get yourself another belt notch?” The Time Lord’s expression became stony as Rose gripped his hand. It was a trap. They both knew it, but what other alternative was there?

“Oh, fine. But we’ll not go in without a warmup, I’ll have you know.”

“We have a dressing room where you can go,” Ringmaster said with a triumphant smile. The Doctor and Rose exchanged a glance before walking down into the ring, the clown they’d seen outside smiling as he approached Rose.

“Where did you get that earring?” He asked softly. 

“Found it,” came the terse reply. “You’re not a robot too, are you?” The only genuine grin on the man’s face was the one that was painted on.

“No.” Rose responded in like kind with a feral smirk, baring her canines and knocking the expression right off of his face as she instinctively drew closer to the Doctor. Safety in numbers, the pack mentality.

“Ooh, too bad. Electronics don’t bleed.”

“Tell me where you found it,” the clown growled. He abruptly took a step away as Rose snarled softly at him, fear flashing through his eyes. 

“I find clowns creepy, but you’re just pathetic. Shove off.”

“_Tell me_,” he snapped, mustering reserve courage to grab her shoulder as she went to follow the Doctor out of the ring. The pair blinked as said Time Lord laid a hand on the outstretched arm, quiet fire in his eyes as he stared the clown down. 

“I’d do as the lady says,” he said in a soft tone that expertly hid the steel underneath the words. “Shove off. Before someone gets hurt. And judging by the baring of her teeth, I’d wager it would be you.” Much more gently than he had the clown, he gripped Rose by the upper arm and steered her away toward the exit of the big tent. 

“He won’t stop until he gets it,” Rose muttered, taking the medallion out of her pocket and fingering it. “I didn’t even have this thing out in the open, he still knew I had it.” 

“Must be important for some reason; I’d like to know why,” the Doctor said contemplatively, taking the object and examining it more closely than he had earlier that afternoon. “Just to be on the safe side, I think I’ll hang on to this. It’ll easily get lost in my transdimensional pockets, take them ages to find it if they frisk us.”

“I have transdimensional pockets too,” Rose pointed out. 

“Yes, but you don’t have around 750 years’ worth of clutter you’ve never cleaned out stuffed into yours,” he replied cheekily as he dropped the object into one of the aforementioned pockets. “The TARDIS is good enough to link my clothes together, you see. That way it doesn’t matter which coat I wear.”

“You are _such _a pack rat,” Rose muttered. They pushed through the fabric flaps into a small room, which had a table in it and three occupants. Captain Cook, Mags, and the motorist they’d had the ‘pleasure’ of running into at the market stall. “Oh, hello.”

“They got you too, did they?” Mags asked flatly. The time travelers frowned. 

“What do you mean?” 

Precisely at that moment, iron bars descended over the opening and trapped them in, the fabric pulling up into the ceiling to reveal a large barred cage. Rose swore, using that lovely Gallifreyan phrase she’d heard so often when her companion was making repairs on the TARDIS.

“Buy me a drink first,” the Doctor muttered absently as he studied the cage before whirling around and staring at her in shock. “Where did you hear _that!?_” 

“Culprit Number One,” Rose replied, poking him in the chest and then frowning. “Hang on. What’s it mean?”

“It- I- that is- no, not telling.” 

“Still, there are worse places to end up,” Rose conceded.

“How can you say that?” Mags asked, confused. 

“Well, getting locked up is second nature to us anymore.”

“Mm. Expected, really,” the Doctor agreed with a nod as he walked over to the table. The motorist shied away from the pair, eyeing them warily. “Now what’s going on?” 

“The talent act is a sham,” Cook explained, leaning forward. You go into the ring, you die. The better your performance, the longer you live. Simple as that.”

“Nord will survive,” the motorist said pompously. Rose raised an eyebrow.

“Seriously, that’s your name?” A proud nod. “Mate, I wouldn’t go speaking in third person if I were you. Wouldn’t wanna broadcast that.” Nord snarled, then shrank back as she took a step forward. “Good boy. No fangs, no fuss.” She turned and poked the Doctor in the chest again. “And you. You’re making a new Sonic soon as we get home.”

“Rose, it takes rather a long time to-“ the Doctor cut himself off, eyes widening slightly as he looked at his friend. “Sorry. Did you just call the TARDIS ‘home?’”

“Been home for ages now,” she said with a shrug. “Why?” He opened his mouth to answer when the loudspeaker system kicked to life.

_Next contestant ready please!_

“Here, Nord,” Cook said abruptly, putting his tea down and facing the other man. “Remember our agreement?”

“Yeah, go on,” Nord replied as the elder gentleman held both hands in front of him, fists closed. 

“Heads or tails?”

“...Tails.” Something slapped onto the back of Cook’s left hand that had been held in his right. 

“Heads,” he said with a self-satisfied smile as a token of some sort was revealed. “You’re on next.” Absolute fury exploded over Nord’s features as he reached out and grabbed Cook by the neck. Two seconds later he was whining, his arm behind his back, as Rose pinned him against the bars. Mags snarled softly from the spot where the door had once been but made no move to come over as Cook stumbled back to his seat. The main clown walked in and frowned at the commotion. 

“What is all this?” He asked sourly. 

“He’s next,” Cook wheezed. “Seemed rather unhappy about it.” The clown nodded, motioning for the robots to move, and handed the Doctor a set of juggling pins. Rose stepped out of the way as they grabbed Nord by the arms and dragged him into the ring. With a last significant look at the prisoners, the clown left.

“We need to get out of here,” Rose muttered. 

“Agreed. The bars. Do you think...?” The Doctor asked, tossing the pins carelessly to the side. Rose nodded. “Excellent. Best get on, then.”

“I have two words for you,” she said as she strode over to the back portion of the cage. “Sonic. Screwdriver.”

“Yes, yes. I heard you the first thousand times.”

“Then do something about it.” With that, she placed her hands on two of the bars and strained for a few moments as she slowly pulled them wider. It took a bit of doing, during which Cook watched like someone interested in a new toy and Mags was merely curious, before the gap was big enough to slip through. “Right. Let’s get going then. Mags, Cook?” 

“Oh, I’ll be staying,” Cook sighed. “So much exertion, and for what? To be captured again? No, I think I’ll stay here.”

“Suit yourself,” Mags muttered, darting through the gap. Rose followed her, the Doctor bringing up the rear. They were moving steadily toward the main exit - the only confirmed one they knew of - and crouched low behind a set of several kites when they heard the Ringmaster and fortune teller conversing. 

“-sed to have fun,” she was saying, upset. “We were free spirits then!”

“We are _now,_” he countered. 

“Oh, you think so?” She scoffed. “Feels more like we’re part of a machine.”

“We’re not leaving, if that’s what you mean.”

“We must!”

“Yeah, you keep saying that, but you haven’t gone have you, Morgana?”

“I _tried!_” Morgana exclaimed. “But-“

“Listen, just so long as they keep coming- and no doubt of that- we are a success, you understand? An _intergalactic _success. “The others, they couldn’t take the pace is all. Deadbeat, Bellboy, Flowerchild, the rest.” Ringleader leaned forward. “Don’t you understand? They wanted to live in the past. The old lazy ways, but not us. We’ll make the Psychic Circus known everywhere.”

“Yeah? But for what?” She growled. They were interrupted as the clown came in with a cadre of robotic brethren in tow. 

“They’ve gone!” He spat. “What’s more, she has one of Flowerchild’s earrings in her pockets. I _told _you they were different! He reeks of time and she runs wild with the stars at her feet. Dangerous things need more than gilded cages.”

“It wasn’t _my _job to make sure that they stayed put,” Ringmaster muttered imperiously. “It was _yours_. Get Bellboy working on the robots again and then _find them_. So long as he thinks Flowerchild is still alive, he’ll behave.”

“Something wrong, Spellman?” Morgana asked when the clown hesitated. “Or is your species’ psychic disposition making you act even stranger than usual?” 

“We’re not alone,” Spellman growled, his painted smile making the furious expression somewhat more terrifying. Rose and the Doctor took off running hand in hands, Mags in tow. They were soon being chased by robotic clowns. 

The curtained halls were long, dim-lit with sickly green light, and there was nowhere to hide. Nothing remotely looking like an opening was anywhere in sight, and with a frustrated growl Rose skidded to a halt. They’d managed to outpace their pursuers at the moment, but it wouldn’t be long until they caught up. 

“Where to now?” Mags panted. “We should have headed outside when we had the chance. Now we’re lost.”

“Not to worry, I have a truly atrocious sense of direction this go round,” the Doctor said brightly. “I’m used to getting lost and finding my way back.”

“Was that meant to be encouraging?” Rose asked sardonically, raising an eyebrow. He frowned at her but said nothing as he scanned the path ahead. All three glanced up at the tarpaulin ceiling as the Ringmaster’s voice filtered through the Circus’ speaker system.

_Calling the Doctor and Rose Tyler,_ he said cheerfully. _There’s no escape. Repeat, there is no escape._

“Oh shut it,” Rose snapped irritably. She then blinked, sniffing the air. “Oh. There’s a tunnel or something up ahead. I smell musty cave smells.”

“See? Things are already looking up,” the Doctor replied with a smile, leading the charge forward this time. The two women exchanged a glance. 

“If you like musty cave smells.”

“I don’t,” Mags muttered. 

Rounding a corner, they came upon a triple fork in the road. Close enough to the smell now that even the Doctor could pick up on it, he turned to the left and grinned. Before them appeared to be the entrance to some sort of tunnel or ruins, odd signs engraved into old rock.

“That stone arch, see? The carvings match those of the memorial stones in the ring. Wonder how long they’ve been here...”

“Maybe they’ve always been here?” Mags suggested as if it were obvious. The Doctor shrugged. 

“Certainly long before the Circus set up shop, that’s for sure. But the two are connected somehow, and I’d like to know how.” Mags gasped softly at the carving of the waning crescent moon upon the mantle, Rose following her gaze, and she looked sharply at their new friend with hopeful suspicion. The Doctor, of course, was entirely oblivious to all of this as he inspected the stonework. He’d gotten into a bad habit recently of not bothering to notice everything around him - well, bad unless you considered that equally dividing work made for better productivity, and Rose was the perfect partner - and left the social intricacies to his companion. 

“Who’s up for exploring the creepy tunnel?” He asked enthusiastically. Rose smirked.

“You take me to the nicest places,” she teased. He mirrored her smirk. 

“Thank you.” 

“Anything’s better than going back to those clowns,” Mags decided with a shudder. 

“True. Well, that settles it. I’ll lead, if you don’t mind Rose. You’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

“It’s my Luna nature,” she said apologetically, making Mags stop in her tracks and stare at her in shock. “I can’t help it. Instincts.”

“Oh, I wasn’t complaining. I just know that you’d prefer me to mention something if it was beginning to irk me. Which it isn’t, but I don’t particularly want it to be.” With that he nodded, as if to himself, and walked down the suspiciously-smooth walled and floored passageway. There were offshoots, smaller tunnels, veering off of this one at perfect 90° angles as well. It was covered periodically with more carvings, and he would stop to examine them for a brief period as they hurried away from the tent.

“Is he your mate?” Mags asked Rose quietly as they followed him. Rose paled.

“Wha- no! No, he’s just my friend.” A pause, consideration. “My best mate, really. In the friend sense of course. Why?”

“You just seem so comfortable with one another...”

“Oh. We’ve been traveling together for six years,” Rose explained. “We’ve got other people, too. When I joined there was Turlough, and since he left we’ve got Peri, who calls us up on weekends or holidays while she attends university.” Her gaze narrowed. “And I find it a bit weird that you asked if he was my _mate_, instead of my _husband_. I said I was a Luna, but there are very few people who understand what that means.”

“I’m from Vulpana,” Mags replied softly. “Our entire species live under four moons, all Werewolves. The moons may be our goddesses but, like Greek Heroes, those deities call upon more than mortals to do their work on the ephemeral plane. Your species are like demigods to us.”

“Really?” Rose asked, voice breaking as she processed this unexpected knowledge. “Tell me more ‘bout that after this is over, yeah? I got bitten by a Letoan but he abandoned me when he left Earth. Aside from him I’ve never seen a member of my species before.”

“You’re alone,” Mags sighed. “I sympathize.” 

“Cook took you from Vulpana unwillingly, didn’t he?”

“He stole me. I’d say kidnapped, but that isn’t quite true. So, ‘stole.’ The word works best.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt any quality girl talk,” the Doctor called from farther up the tunnel, “but you should really come and see this.” 

Exchanging a glance, they sped up until they were standing beside him at the edge of a seemingly-bottomless pit. It had fog steaming out of its depth, glowing with a soft unnatural blue light.

“That’s not foreboding at all,” Rose muttered. 

“You’ve been talking too much with Turlough,” the Doctor tutted, humor lacing his admonishing tone. “Getting a touch pessimistic, Rose.” 

“Is it a well?” Mags asked, peering over the edge but unwilling to stand too close. The Doctor, too, was well back; in fact, it was only Rose who had gone right up to the edge. 

“Only way to find out.” He rummaged about in his pockets for a few moments before withdrawing a cricket ball, then bowled it with expert aim down the pit. As it hit the fog the shimmering image of an eye seemed to materialize before them before fading out again, and he sucked in a breath thoughtfully as he rocked back on his heels with his hands shoved into his trouser pockets. “That eye was on the kites... I _knew _they were connected. The question is how. Now, I have a feeling that answer lies down that hole, but I’m not especially keen to try finding a way down on the off-chance I fall and break my neck. Been there, down that. Bought the tee shirt. No thank you.” 

“The walls are so slick with moisture you wouldn’t get a grip anyway,” Mags observed. The pair stiffened as Rose let out a soft growl, turning to see what had made her unhappy, and jumped slightly when they saw Captain Cook and a small team of the robotic clowns blocking the way back to the other shafts (and thus their escape). 

“Awfully sorry to butt in like this old boy, but I’m afraid you’re wanted,” Cook said, flashing an unnerving smile that most certainly did not reach his eyes. 

“Gilderoy Lockhart,” Rose snapped. “Coward.” 

“Not at all, dear girl. It’s all about survival, you see. You’re the next act in the ring.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you thought the original story wasn’t creepy enough on television, I’ve made the clown psychic/telepathic. He’s actually... well, I’ll just see if anyone recognizes him or not before the casual reveal later on down the line. 


	11. The Greatest Show in the Galaxy III

“Why would you lead them to us!?” Mags exclaimed, shocked. 

“Survival of the fittest, my dear,” Cook explained. He then raised an eyebrow in sardonic expression. “Don’t tell me you never came across that on the planet Vulpana.”

“Run,” Rose whispered. The Doctor nodded shortly, and when she launched herself at Cook he slipped away in the confusion and darted down a series of side passages until even he himself was lost.

“Get him!” Cook snapped as he stumbled away from Rose’s grasp in panic. Mags was eyeing him with dark eyes, her lips drawn back in a snarl as she eyed up the robotic clowns. “And secure those two girls.” There was a strange glint in his eye. “They’ll make a fine act in the ring.” 

“No, I won’t!” Mags protested, turning to glare at him and then gasping when she saw the symbol of a full moon obscured by a stone cloud above the door they had exited out of. Her entire body stiffened as she growled, pupils dilating. Cook took one glance at her and inhaled sharply. 

“Mags, not now. Stop! Stop it now! Not yet!” 

“Mags,” Rose whispered softly, letting a bit of her Luna influence enter into her voice. Mags relaxed immediately, taking a deep breath and flashing her a grateful look. 

The Doctor, meanwhile, had gotten back into the tent like tunnels and had had to hide in a side room. Inside that room was a man in a yellow bellhop jacket, which was entirely open and exposing his chest and torso. This did not appear to be a conscious decision however, as the bruising and dried cuts on his ribs and face showed signs of ‘soft’ torture. It turned out that his name was Bellboy, and once the Doctor had shown him the odd pendant he’d earlier given to Rose and then taken back he’d been much more willing to help.

The thing was an earring which had belonged to another member of the Circus, named Flowerchild. The pair had run away together, and if she no longer had one of her earrings... chances were she was dead. 

Bellboy made and fixed the robots. He made a point of giving the Doctor a control device just in case. Once it was evident more people were coming to visit, he’d slipped out into the tunnels and crept toward the front entrance/exit. Nobody seemed to be home in Morgana’s ticket booth, and he allowed himself the time to examine the symbol of the eye on the kites they’d hidden behind earlier with more scrutiny than he usually would have afforded when in need of a decent hiding place. 

The symbol was oddly familiar for some reason, regardless of the encounter with the pit, and banking on impulse the Doctor examined Morgana’s crystal ball on the ticket counter only to find the eye once again staring out a him from a sea of swirling pink mist. 

At the approach of another individual he ducked behind the counter, holding his breath patiently as he drew on his bypass when the man hesitated. He seemed to be debating something, muttering ‘no, no,’ under his breath, and when he’d run off the Doctor quickly scurried out of his hiding place to follow. He paused when he took in a poster advertising the Psychic Circus and snorted.

“‘Fun for all the family?’” He read, shaking his head before walking away. “As if I’d ever let Susan within two light years and seven centuries of this place...” He retraced his steps to point a finger at the smiling clown on the poster and glared at it. “And before you say a word, introducing her to Daleks was never my intention.” 

With that he swept off, muttering angrily to himself as he went under his breath. He ducked into a side tent when he heard the sound of footsteps, tilting his head to the side and smiling when he realized who was coming towards him. 

“-And touch me again, and I’ll give ya a smack my mother’d be proud of!” Rose snapped as she and Cook’s entourage walked past. They stopped after she kicked him in the foot whil he hopped around cursing. The Doctor reached into his coat and drew out the dog whistle he’d acquired a lifetime ago for K-9. He blew a few quick, short pips in Morse (British standard of course, there was no way she’d understand Jekaarskan Morse without studying it first) and smiled when her head tilted slightly to the side. The Doctor’s head tilted too as he noticed that Mags had heard the noise as well.

_Oh, it can’t really have been that simple to find our Wolf, can it? _He thought as he waited for her response.

Rose blinked back at him in Morse and his brow furrowed slightly.

_Create a distraction. Right. Well, how am I supposed to do that without getting caught myself? _He sent a reply. _Can’t you do it yourself? Mags is... am I right in assuming..._

_I don’t want to reveal myself when Cook thinks it’s okay to scoop up any non-human he finds and treat them as ‘unique specimens,’ _Rose replied. _Just... loud noise, something bright. What can you do for me?_

_With that? Well, I’m sure I can make some fireworks._

_Ooh, fireworks._

_No._

_But-_

_No. _

_You’re no fun._

_I can be fun! I’m loads of fun! _

It wasn’t easy to convey indignance via whistle Morse, but he managed well enough because Rose smirked. Mags was glancing surreptitiously toward his location, confusion evident in her features, but she made no move to alert Cook to his presence. 

_Make some fireworks then, Doctor, _Rose replied teasingly. He swallowed when she batted her eyelashes at him; from anyone else it would be a seductive move, what with the way she tilted her chin and puckered her lips slightly... The first time she’d done that he’d stammered out many reasons why it would be a bad idea for them to be anything more than friends and she’d laughed at him, and he’d realized that she’d been playing with him hoping to see him panic. After six years together he knew better, and he merely rolled his eyes. 

_Tease._

_You’re just figuring that out now?_

Cook started walking again - this time with a limp - and thus the opportunity to converse was lost. The Doctor stiffened as a hand landed on his shoulder, and he glanced up to see the man who’d been sweeping the area around their cage earlier staring back at him with an odd sort of smile. Deadbeat, his name was. Yes? No? Maybe. Truth be told he hadn’t really been paying attention at the time, too interested in escaping. At any rate, the man seemed to want to help now. 

With slow movements Deadbeat walked out into the main hall, behind Cook’s group. It was only a matter of seconds for him to deactivate the two robotic clowns at the back of the procession and, when Rose and Mags had realized what happened, he stood back with a grin as Mags knocked the explorer unconscious before he knew what hit him and Rose ripped the backs off the two clowns at the front, effectively destroying their transmitters. 

“Bit anticlimactic,” she commented as the Doctor slipped out of his hiding spot to join them. 

“Ran into a friendly acquaintance,” he retorted blithely, looking her over. “Hurt?”

“Nah.”

“Good. Now, I know a place we can get some answers... hopefully... but we’ll have to move quick.”

“Not a problem for me,” Mags laughed softly. The Doctor eyed her with interest.

“You’re a Wolf, aren’t you?” Her face registered surprise. Pleasant surprise, but surprise all the same.

“Most people say ‘Werewolf,’” she murmured. He smiled gently with a significant glance at Rose. 

“Yes, well I have it on good authority that that is usually viewed as a rather derogatory term, and it’s my opinion that one should always be polite toward extraordinary people with unique anger management issues, hmm?”

“I like him,” Mags decided, looking toward Rose who was grinning. “Lead on then, Doctor. The sooner we can get away from here the better.” 

“Oh, touché Mags. Touché.” He tapped Deadbeat on the shoulder and the man startled. Coming with, old chap?” Deadbeat nodded. “Splendid. Let’s scarper.”

“‘Scarper’?” Rose echoed with a raised eyebrow as they followed him down the halls. He rolled his eyes.

“If I’d said ‘scamper off,’ like I would usually be inclined to do, you’d have poked fun at me, would you not?”

“Still pokin’ fun at ya now, mate.” 

“Yes, I did notice.” 

“That’s cause most people just say ‘leg it.’”

“When you’re from, perhaps. But if you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m rather partial to the Edwardian era, where the phrase ‘leg it’ simply doesn’t convey the same thing it does in your time. Now leave my vocabulary alone.”

“Sir! Yessir!” 

“Oh, hush.” 

“And you’re _sure _you’re just good friends?” Mags asked incredulously. The pair exchanged a confused glance and then looked back at her and nodded, entirely missing the point. She sighed but refrained from commenting further. Some people just couldn’t be helped. 

Bellboy was right where the Doctor had left him, curled in the corner of his workshop full of partially-dismantled robotic clowns and gently fingering Flowerchild’s earring. He didn’t bother to look up when they came in and closed the door behind them.

“She made kites, you know. Such beautiful kites. And then they took them and used them to keep an eye on is at all times, preventing us from escaping.”

“Who are they?” The Doctor asked quietly, crouching back on his heels and resting his forearms on his knees while he balanced. 

“The ones that run the circus. You’ve probably met them by now.”

“Creepy little girl and scary parents?” Rose asked. Bellboy nodded. She shot the Doctor an exasperated glare. “And _you _wanted to go and say hello.” 

“It’s only polite,” he sniffed. “Bellboy, this is important. I’d like to stop them, before they can hurt anyone else. But I’ll need your help. Deadbeat is... well... not very forthcoming despite his best intentions.” 

“His name didn’t used to be Deadbeat,” Bellboy scoffed, finally looking up and eyeing the other circus performer. “It was Kingpin.” Deadbeat smiled at the name and nodded happily, so Bellboy repeated it again a tad more softly. “You see? He hasn’t heard his own name in so long... that’s what they do, Doctor. They caught us, and trapped us, and then stripped us of our identity. We joined the Psychic Circus to be our own people, from whatever past we were running from, and they took that away.” 

“Sift the dreams, sift the dreams, when the mind’s divided the body screams...” Deadbeat murmured, sitting on the floor and rocking back and forth as he repeated the thing to himself over and over again. Bellboy grimaced.

“Our minds are clouded, those that know better,” he sighed. “Memories of the life I lived before are hard to keep pinned down. But what I do remember is this. Kingpin persuaded all of us to come here. There was something he wanted, or needed, or... it’s slipped away again, what exactly it was. It’s the place. Those... those _things. _Everything.”

“What about the eyes?” Rose asked gently, sitting on Bellboy’s side opposite the Doctor and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “The ones on the kites.”

“Or in Morgana’s crystal ball. Or the one in the deep pit, deep in the catacombs?” The Doctor added. 

“I know nothing about that, save that it scares me to my core,” Bellboy whimpered.

“Look, look in the well...” Deadbeat whispered. Mags frowned at him and crouched beside him as he rocked back and forth, concerned. “The eye gives you promises... promise of Heaven or Hell...”

“Ramblings,” Bellboy sighed dismissively. “He makes comments like that all the time.”

“No, I rather think they might be answers,” the Doctor corrected, tilting his head. He moved to crouch beside Kingpin. “Kingpin, if we were to take you to the well, can you show us what happened? What you did? I want to stop whatever hurt you.” After a few moments, Kingpin nodded. They all stood and moved toward the door. 

“I’ll stay here,” Bellboy offered, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. “If- if Spellman’s after you- you didn’t touch any of the tickets, did you?”

“I bought a pair,” Rose admitted, frowning at them. “Never gave the Doctor his, just figured I’d hold on to it.” Mags held up a stub as well. Bellboy groaned slightly.

“Psychic imprint, he can follow you wherever you go with those. Only way to get rid of them is for someone else to take the tickets. To touch them.” 

“What exactly is his species, Bellboy?” Mags asked. “He smells... strange.”

“Honestly? I have no idea. I just know that he thrives on high emotions whether they be good or bad, that he makes his meals off of them. But he enjoys fear the most. He convinced us to listen to Kingpin when he said he wanted to go here. I don’t half wonder if he knew something was going on.” 

“Can we leave the tickets somewhere else, let him follow the tickets instead of us?” Rose asked. 

“Yes... and no. Spellman follows the tickets themselves, but the imprint denies you the ability to be rid of them.” 

“A psychic imprint can be broken by a skilled telepath,” the Doctor said brightly, already raising his fingers to Rose’s temples. Rose, familiar with this, merely tilted her head slightly to allow him better access. He was in and out in a matter of seconds, coming to stand before Mags. “I will be very polite. A complete gentleman.”

“If Rose trusts you, I suppose I do too,” Mags sighed. Her face pinched slightly at the sensation of someone else rooting around in her mind, but when it was over she sighed in relief and abruptly dropped her ticket on a nearby table. Rose did the same with the two she was holding. “Now what?”

“Now... we make some bait,” the Doctor muttered, grabbing a nearby pair of pliers and picking the offending objects up. He placed them in one of the robotic clown’s fingers and tightened the grip. “Bellboy, if you’d do the honors?” For the first time Bellboy grinned. It was weak, and sad, but it was genuine as he turned on the receiver and sent the thing off on its way. “Now, I say we all go and investigate that pit. With the Hardy Boys chasing the wrong scent we shouldn’t have any interruptions. What do you say?”

“I... yes, I’ll come with you,” Bellboy breathed. 

“Good man.” 

They ran through the tent tunnels in the opposite direction of the decoy, headed back toward the pit. Mags studiously avoided the symbol of the nearly-full moon above the door and pressed on, something which earned her an encouraging shoulder squeeze from Rose. When they got to the edge of the steaming cauldron, Kingpin hesitated and backed away. Bellboy murmured something softly into his ear and gave a gentle shove at his back, and reluctantly he moved forward again. 

Holding a medallion slung around his neck in the air he shuddered violently as the eye peered back at them, and with a whimper he collapsed. Bellboy was at his side instantly, and the Doctor was holding his head looking for blown pupils with his fingers just barely skimming the edges of his telepathic receptors for a general overview of his mental state.

“He appears to be no more worse for wear than he was before,” he sighed upon completing his investigation. “Unfortunately, the mind is a very delicate thing and when he used that medallion to summon whatever malevolent force exists in that pit the first time around, it scrambled him badly.”

“Let me try to help then,” Rose murmured. She bent downward until her forehead was touching Kingpin’s and her fingers came up to gently put pressure against his temples. The Doctor blinked at this; as a touch telepath it was necessary for him to do the temple touch for proper contact, but Rose wasn’t touch-telepathic and thus had no need for it. So why...?

“There’s an eye on the medallion,” Mags pointed out, holding it up for the Doctor and Bellboy to examine. “But the pupil’s missing.”

“Yes... we... we hid something, far away...” Bellboy murmured.

“That represents the pupil?” The Doctor guessed. Bellboy nodded. “You and Flowerchild went looking for it. What happened?”

“They tracked us with Flowerchild’s kites. I stayed behind to be a distraction, a decoy. She went on ahead, back to where it all began.”

“The bus,” the Doctor breathed, understanding momentarily slackening his features before his eyes sharpened with interest. “But, we were there. With something as malevolent as the puppet masters of your Circus, I should have sensed something. And if not me, then Rose.”

“I don’t know why you didn’t, or how it would be possible for you to sense something like that, but what I say is true,” Bellboy sighed. 

“His thoughts are badly scattered, but I’ve been able to give him some peace,” Rose murmured as she drew away from the unconscious Kingpin. “He needs rest, and he should be able to start piecing things back together now that there’s some semblance of order. What’s the plan?” 

“The plan is that I return to the Circus and provide a neat little distraction while you take Bellboy to search for whatever it is they hid there.”

“Not on your own you’re not going!” Rose protested. 

“I’ll go with him,” Mags said immediately. “The Captain may be going into the ring soon if he hasn’t already, and despite everything he did save my life. My species has certain oaths we take over actions like that.” 

“But-“

“Rose,” the Doctor interrupted softly, giving her a gentle smile and habitually holding out his hand so that they could twine their fingers together. “I’ll be fine. Mags here will take good care of me.”

“It’s not that I’m too worried,” she muttered, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot and not meeting his gaze. “You survived well enough on your wits long before me, I just...”

“Oh,” Mags said understandingly with a nod. The Doctor looked from one to the other in bewilderment. 

“What?” 

“You’re part of her Pack, Doctor,” Mags explained as Rose went as red as her namesake and refused to look at anyone. “There’s a very protective instinct in that, no matter the species variation of the Lupine. She’s reluctant to leave because she knows it’s dangerous and I don’t smell like her. Regardless of whether or not I’d hurt you, I smell of a different pack and that’s even more dangerous than whatever you could potentially get yourself into.” 

“Is that true?” The Doctor asked, eyes wide as he patiently drew Rose’s chin into an angle where he could see her face. She bit her lip and nodded and he huffed in exasperated amusement. “Oh, Rose. Just say so next time, will you? We’ve known each other six years. If there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that, no matter how strong your will is, your instincts still put up a Hell of a fight. All right?”

“...Yeah. Just... be careful.”

“I’ll keep good watch,” Mags promised. Rose swallowed before nodding, and after making sure Kingpin was comfortable in a corner of the pit room she and Bellboy moved off, making their way toward the bus.

“Mags, what does it mean exactly that I’m part of Rose’s Pack?” The Doctor asked quietly as they walked back toward the prison cell they’d escaped from. His brow was furrowed slightly, jaw ever so vaguely tight but noticeable, and his shoulders were stiff as he walked with ramrod posture. It wasn’t his usual ambling gait, even Mags could tell that after spending so little time with him, but she got the feeling it wasn’t due to their upcoming performance. 

“You’re family,” Mags said simply. He looked at her with wide eyes.

“...What?”

“Family,” she repeated. “Whether blood or not, you’re willing to do anything for them because they’d do the same for you. Look, you mentioned you’d been traveling together for six years?”

“Yes...”

“And in that time, did you watch each other’s backs?”

“...Yes.”

“That’s what family does. That’s what a _Pack _does. Give it any label you want; Pack, Clan, Pod, Family, Tribe. It’s all the same in the end. A group of people, who love each other even if it’s only platonic, and care and worry after one another.” She glanced down at the ground. “Mine wasn’t very kind to outsiders and it certainly didn’t like insiders either. But you, Rose? Anyone who travels with the pair of you, during that time, that’s your Pack.” The Doctor swallowed several times, eyes oddly bright.

“Oh.” They were nearing the ring now, and his thoughts were racing. Rose saw him as family? “No one’s ever bothered to see me as family since... since my Granddaughter,” he whispered. “And even before then... family groups on Gallifrey, they didn’t care about blood ties let alone empathic ones. I’ve never really had someone who’s willing to stay through everything. I- I’ve always had this... this inkling, in the back of my head, that everyone would leave me eventually. I’ve been left alone so many times I just expect it.

“This whole adventure has been a bit of an eye-opener for me- ah, no pun intended, sorry. But it has. Up until now I’ve just subconsciously thought Rose would leave too. But it’s just occurred to me, that she has no one and nothing to return to. I and my ship are the closest thing she’s got to a home, to a family.” The Doctor let out a breath and his posture tightened a bit more. “It’s terrifying. There’s so much responsibility with that.”

“Just... never _try _to hurt her, Doctor,” Mags said quietly. He glanced her way and she shrugged. “It’s a fact of life that everyone ends up hurting the people they care about at least once during their life. But you can choose to mean it or not, and never go out of your way to hurt her. Family forgives the mistakes you didn’t mean to make if you’re sorry, if they’re true family. And even if you’re not sorry... sometimes, forgiving someone doesn’t matter if you know that they’ve broken under all the pain they’re in. They need comfort, they need healing. And maybe forgiveness will never come for the things like that, but that’s where love comes in.”

“Time Lords don’t do love,” the Doctor whispered, and maybe it was her imagination but Mags could have sworn she heard his voice break a tiny bit on the last word as centuries of quiet, lonely agony peeked through. 

They met up with Cook in the cell, sipping away at his tea. He seemed congenial to the idea of the three of them going into the ring together to triple the odds of making it out alive, but...

“Sorry old boy,” Cook said as he led the Ringmaster to the side accepted the man’s whip. “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, but before we start... I would like to make one small request from stage management. A special... _lighting _effect.”

“No!” Mags gasped. The Doctor swallowed, unpleasant possibilities swarming his mind. 

“Could you, perhaps, give us that old _Devil Moon effect_?” A large light turned on, high above the ring, and the blue moonlight-like rays bathed the arena in their glow.

“Sometimes I really hate it when I’m right,” the Doctor muttered under his breath as Mags screamed in agony, growls and snarls emanating from her mouth as fangs elongated from her canines and the rest of her teeth sharpened into points. Her eyes were a bright, sickly yellow with the pupils contracted to pinpricks, and her hair was standing all on end while her skin took on a greenish-yellow hue the same color as its tips. He backed away as fur sprouted generously on her arms and legs of the matching shade, poking through her fishnet stocking and sleeves, and he frowned when something downright odd occurred to him. 

Then Mags was swiping at him with clawed nails on her fingers and he shoved that train of thought to the back of his mind. Time for that later. 

...If there was a later...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! I’ve decided I want some discourse. So, as I’ve already told you what my favorite characters are, I figure I can tell you why. Ask me one of the following questions and I’ll answer it - but only if you give me your answer to it as well! I’m just curious. To ask, simply use the Question Bracket Number and Letter as the first sentence of the comment (Ex. QB2C). Look for the answers in the comments, and please only pick one question per person as I don’t want repeats. As each question gets filled I’ll make an update putting strikethrough through the letters answered for latecomers to this little experiment (you can add your own answer to one already asked with your own favs and such in the thread, too!) 😉 Reminder, my favs are...  
New Who: Nine, Donna.   
Classic: Three, Sarah Jane.   
Overall: Five, Rose.   
My OTP of all fandoms is DoctorxRose.   
My favorite New ship is MickeyxMartha.   
My favorite Classic ship is IanxBarbara.
> 
>   
QUESTION BRACKET (QB) 1:  
<del>A: Why is your favorite Doctor for Classic your fav?</del>  
<del>B: Why is your favorite Doctor for New your fav?</del>  
C: Why is your favorite Doctor for Overall your fav?
> 
> QUESTION BRACKET (QB) 2:  
<del>A: Why is your favorite Companion for Classic your fav? </del>  
B: Why is your favorite Companion for New your fav?  
C: Why is your favorite Companion for overall your fav?
> 
> QUESTION BRACKET (QB) 3:  
A: Why is your all-time (first, enduring, etc) OTP your favorite? Does not have to be DW.  
B: Why do you you like your general DW ship(s)?  
<del>C: What’s your favorite Doctor Who Spin-off, and why?</del>
> 
> QUESTION BRACKET (QB) 4:  
A: What’s your favorite Doctor Who story/episode/arc, for each of your three favs?  
B: If you had to pick close seconds or runners-up for ALL the favs, who would they be?  
C: Have you read/heard any of the Doctor Who EU (comics, novels, Big Finish, etc)? If so, state your favorite (for each type).
> 
> I’m excited to hear you guys’ answers and share mine, so please start asking me!
> 
> EDIT (05/10/2020): By the way, no matter how many chapters this story has, if it is completed, if it has sequels, this question panel will be open and replied to until all of them have been answered. If you’re new to the story/series feel free - please, do! - to add to the discussion!


	12. The Greatest Show in the Galaxy IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And to the elder gods I pay tribute in fear  
My heart beats wild not with joy  
But with the terror of losing all I hold dear.
> 
> I give my life to stay the flood  
But in the end they come  
And ravenous they take my blood.
> 
> Ask not why the old women weep  
The elder gods have come again  
And dark promises do keep.
> 
> They sit resplendent on crumbling thrones  
And at the end their power wanes  
Give up their reign to succumb to the stones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PART 4 OF 4

The Doctor dodged the swipe of claws, blood pumping rapidly through his body as Cook kept Mags away from him with the Ringmaster’s whip.

“She hates it when this happens, you know,” he commented calmly. “But she can’t control herself, of course. And, like all her kind, she has to destroy whatever comes in her path.” Cook cracked the whip again and Mags startled-

Oh. Startled. As in, was afraid of. Cook chittered on but the Doctor ignored him even as the creepy family in the stands raised their judging cards. A solid trio of nines. The girl’s eyes glowed briefly green. 

The Doctor sucked in a breath as he leapt to the side, the tent canvas tearing behind him as Mags lunged and missed. 

“We _experienced explorers _know to make the most of our discoveries,” Cook laughed. 

“Captain Cook, what age are you?” The Doctor asked off-handedly as he skipped around the perimeter of the ring, rolling at one point and scooching backward along the floor. Mags managed to grab his left shoe, and grimacing he kicked it off. 

“Fifty-seven, dear chap. Why?”

“I’m at _least_ seven hundred and seventy-five and most likely higher if I bothered to check, and I’ve been traveling for most of that. Don’t talk to me about experience.”

“So I was right!” Cook exclaimed, eyes glinting in a way that the Doctor really didn’t like. “_Time Lord_. You seek to harness the powers of these beings as well!”

“I think you’re confusing me with the Master,” the Doctor muttered, mostly to himself. He then blinked, nearly getting mauled as he lost concentration on avoiding- well, mauling. “Hang on. Why do _you _want to harness the power?” 

“Oh you would like to know, wouldn’t you?” Cook sneered. Despite everything, the Doctor found time to roll his eyes and deliver a sassy comeback that Tegan would have been proud of him for.

“No, I was just asking to hear myself talk. Of _course _I want to know, you idiot!” Cook scowled, snapping the whip once more, and the Doctor scurried up one of the support scaffolds holding the tent up. He cast about wildly as Mags threw herself at the scaffolding and it shuddered, eyes landing on a rope. Cringing at the burns he just _knew _he’d be getting, he grabbed it and hung on tight as he swung into the stands across the ring. 

~§§~

“Where could Kingpin have possibly hidden this thing?” Rose asked, growling slightly in frustration. Bellboy sighed, flinging a throw pillow across the bus and rubbing his face. 

“Honestly? None of us really knew why he wanted to come here. Spellman got all excited when he mentioned it, and that got _us _excited, and... well, here we are.” He glanced at faint movement in the corner of his eye and paled. “With a killer robot that I repaired about two hours ago...”

“Right, I’m gonna deal with this thing the way I wanted to earlier this afternoon,” Rose muttered, standing from where she’d been rummaging about under the driver’s seat. She paused when she realized the ticket master was standing passively in front of Bellboy, waiting to receive orders from its creator. “Oh. Never mind then. Keep it busy, yeah? I’ll keep searching.”

“Please hurry,” Bellboy replied through the corner of a rather false smile as he went through the motions of making sure everything was in proper working order. Rose frowned, stumped, and was just about to suggest it might have been buried somewhere when she saw the lunch tin with the out of place padlock on it.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” she murmured happily, dragging the item off of its shelf and sitting in one of the nearby seats. The movement distracted the robot, which allowed Bellboy the opportunity to flick a simple switch on its neck. Once it was standing motionless, he sat in the seat next to hers and watched as she ripped the lock off in one smooth motion. 

~§§~

“Mags, don’t listen to Cook!” The Doctor pleaded, backing slowly along the path of the stands circling the ring. Mags had climbed up after him, advancing just as slowly. She knew he was trapped. “I’ve met other versions of lycanthropes, all right? One that destroyed because it had a plan and it would let nothing stand in the way of achieving it. Another that had a dark and feral nature, but lived in a complex social culture that knew right from wrong. And another... another that is... that is...” the Doctor trailed off, at a loss for words as to how to describe her, and then ducked as a robotic clown swiped at him. They were trying to get him back into the ring. 

Leaping over the railing, he grabbed another rope and swung again. The burns on his fingers and palms, already minor and raw, deepened and he hissed with pain but clung until he could drop into the bleachers again on the other side of the ring. Too late he turned to see that the creepy family were sitting one level higher than where he was, and he swallowed as they stood as one and their eyes turned glowing green. 

Sheer malice and terror exploded across his telepathic senses and with a gasp he stumbled backward, falling, and landing quite painfully in the ring. Mags was on top of him in an instant, and reflexively he shot his hand out as a final and weak preventative between her assault and his head. 

The attack never came. The Doctor risked a glance upward and saw that Mags had stopped mere millimeters away from his outstretched fingers, which trembled with nervous energy as she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply through her nose. 

_Her scent is all over you_. 

Words from a different wolf in Scotland rushed back to him and he held his breath as Mags inhaled deeply, her posture relaxing and becoming more subservient. 

“Of all the Wolves I have seen, none destroy because they are compelled to do so,” he whispered. She opened her eyes and he was relieved to find that they were clearing, the pinprick pupils widening, and slowly her fangs and claws began to retract as her fur receded. 

Cook shouted at them, snapping the whip, but they both ignored him as she focused on his soothing, earnest voice and he focused on her regaining her common sense. There was the slow release of tension as this occurred and when Mags had come back to herself they exchanged a weak, tired smile. They both looked up sharply when there was the sound of disappointment and could only squint as bright green light exploded in the ring. There was a scream, and then they were staring at a smeared smudge and some ash on the floor where Cook had been only moments prior. 

One look was all it took for the pair to leap to their feet and take off running, the Doctor cursing his lack of two shoes and shucking the remaining one as he went. He was still in his socks, which was somewhat more hilarious than being plainly barefoot due to the fact that he’d worn the ones with Einstein’s face on them since no one was ever supposed to _see _the socks in question, but that was a problem for another time. 

Spellman - who had walked in during the performance - and Ringmaster barred their path, but when Mags growled ferally at them and bared her teeth they jumped out of the way. The clown glared at them as they passed and the Doctor took some time to be petty to lean toward him and whisper, ‘woof.’ The clown jumped backward and he smirked, entirely satisfied with some minor compensation for his troubles and the loss of a decent pair of cricketing Zed trainers. 

Out in the tented corridors the pair flinched as they heard thunder crack twice, and Mags drew up short.

“Who was it?” The Doctor asked quietly. 

“Morgana and Ringmaster,” she replied just as softly. They stood still for a few moments and then continued on at a slower pace back toward the pit where they’d left Kingpin. Rose and Bellboy should have been on their way back by now. 

“And I wanted to go to a resort,” he sighed. “I’m going to have to have words with my ship when I get back. This is no way to spend someone’s birthday.”

“It’s- what?”

“Rose. She turned 200 today. Haven’t really kept track over the years we’ve traveled together, but this one was a bit special.”

“That... this... wow.”

“I know.” He rolled his eyes and affected a cheery tone of voice. “Happy birthday! Let’s see if we can get murdered by psychopathic clowns and creepy families.” They both glanced up as the ‘father’s’ voice filtered over the intercom system. “Oh, what now?“

“Calling the Doctor! Calling the Doctor!”

“They want you,” Mags murmured. He nodded, irritated. “Are you going back?”

“Yes.” 

“Then I’m coming with you.” Sky blue eyes regarded her with alarm. 

“No, you aren’t.”

“I promised Rose I’d keep an eye on you,” Mags retorted stubbornly. “I intend to do just that.” 

“Mags, I need you to return to Kingpin and make sure he’s safe,” the Doctor sighed. “Please? He knows something, and I have a feeling that if any of us want to get out of here alive we’ll need him by the end of all this.” Mags frowned, then nodded.

“Fine. But I’m going to pin this idea on you when Rose gets miffed.” His smile was weak but genuine and fond.

“What else is new?” She hesitated a few moments more before continuing on at a much faster pace, and he watched her go until he could no longer see her. When she disappeared from sight he squared his shoulders and walked back toward the ring, tensing when he sensed an inter-planar doorway folding two points in dimensions together. “You lot, whoever you are, are far more devious than I had thought... and now that I put a few things together like runic stones and this ability... I dread to think I might be right in my suspicions.” 

The Doctor gathered his courage, took a deep breath, and stepped forward. Walking through the doorway was like wading through gelatin. It was thick, viscous, and there were a multitude of bright garish colors that appeared unnatural. He squinted his eyes against the onslaught and forged on, one step after another, until he sensed a lowering of the ceiling and dropped to his knees to roll underneath what solidified into an iron gate. In one smooth motion he came back to his feet and brushed himself off, the foreboding feeling intensifying as he took in his new surroundings. 

What appeared to be a medieval gladiator pit of grey stone block walls arranged in a circular ring that seemed to ascend endlessly into the misty firmament of a simulated sky and sandy dust for a floor was what he walked into, grimacing as he viewed the ‘creepy family’ in their true form. Stone statuesque figures sitting resplendent in carved robes and helmets, white glowing eye slits and the third eye a white dot in the center of what would be the forehead.

“You know, there are times I really hate being right,” the Doctor chirped with false optimism as he stood before the gods of Ragnarok and shoved his hands oh so casually in his pockets.

~§§~

“Bit under-dramatic, isn’t it?” Rose commented, holding the half-sphere shape up from the lunch tin. 

“Looks like an iris and a pupil,” Bellboy observed with interest, taking it from her and examining it. “Look, blue ring with a black center. Mm... magnetic on the back of it, too. I shouldn’t wonder that it fits perfectly against Kingpin’s medallion with the eye missing its center.”

“Yeah, but what’s it _do?_” Rose asked, frustrated. “It’s so _tiny. _It just doesn’t make sense.”

“Does any of this, really?” When he got no reply Bellboy sighed, standing and holding out a hand to help her to her feet which she accepted. “The sooner we return to Kingpin the better. Might finally get some answers.” He fingered Flowerchild’s earring where he’d pinned it to his jacket after the Doctor had given it back to him. “Maybe then not all of the sacrifice will have been in vain.” 

“Sacrifice is never in vain,” Rose murmured. “The very act of standing against oppression, against wrong, against evil, redeems a tiny bit of the universe every time it happens.”

“You’re optimistic,” Bellboy huffed. Rose had set a brisk pace back to the Circus and he was having a hard time keeping up. She flashed him a wan smile and shrugged. 

“I used to be so innocent. Convinced that everything would work out in the end, y’know? And then that innocence was killed by someone who ruined my life. But recently, I’ve seen selfless devotion and love to a universe that will never do anything but take without even expecting a thank you. Not due to a sense of duty, or the repaying of a debt caused by past sins. Just... just because it’s right, Bellboy. That’s why we’re here, the Doctor and me. He goes around, saving planets and people, just because no one else will. And I think that makes the universe a little bit better. Piece by piece. 

“And... something like that, it gives you hope, y’know? Six years ago I was one of the most pessimistic people you’d ever meet. But now... I’m starting to be able to believe that there’s good out there for the sake of good again. And I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay that debt no matter how hard I try, but I can share that burden. Make life less lonely for a wanderer who stops in to fix problems and leaves without any fuss.”

“You love him, don’t you?” Bellboy asked quietly between pants. Rose cast him an exasperated look and he hastened to explain. “Not- not romantically. But, the Greeks... they had seven different types of love. Or, eight, if you include Mania, which is obsessive and unhealthy. But one of the seven healthy ones, Agape, is selfless love. It’s unconditional, surpassing any surface base emotion. It isn’t defined by kin or attraction. It’s the purest form of empathy and compassion, soul-deep, for any individual that they can have for the entity of life in it’s entirety. Love of the spirit, a devotion purely of being. It has nothing to do with romance and everything to do with the simple act of _feeling_. You love him for himself and nothing to do with what he looks or acts like. He is your friend, your confidant, and someone you trust because of a bone-deep investment in the soul. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Rose simply gaped at him, speechless.

“You don’t strike me as the poetic type,” she finally said after a good few minutes. He shrugged, a sad smile playing on his lips.

“I came from a very... _aristocratic _family on my home planet,” Bellboy explained. “Inhad to have a very well-rounded education and hated every minute of it. I’d much rather invent with mechanics. Flowerchild was a street urchin. We fell in love as teenagers, but my family didn’t approve the match. The circus was in town, and we ran away. There was nothing left on our planet, and so long as we were together we were happy.”

“I’m sorry,” Rose murmured, linking their hands together and squeezing his fingers comfortingly. He nodded. 

“I uh... I can’t go home now, don’t want to anyway. And without her, I don’t know what I’m going to do. But...” he took a shuddering breath and cleared his throat. “Let’s get back to Kingpin, end this for good.” 

They managed to get back to the pit just as Mags showed up... without the Doctor. 

“Where is he?” Rose asked, already anticipating the answer. 

“He went to confront them,” Mags sighed, exasperated. “I tried to talk him out of it, and when that didn’t work I tried to talk him into taking me with him. But he said we needed someone watching over Kingpin, and I couldn’t argue with that.” 

“Not your fault he’s stubborn,” Rose muttered. She knelt on her heels and took the eye piece from Bellboy, attaching it to Kingpin’s medallion where it hung around his neck. He gasped, wakening immediately, and the clarity in his eyes said everything.

“Hello everyone,” he mumbled, rubbing at his right eye and wincing. “Ooh, that’s a headache.” 

“Kingpin, what was the medallion for?” Bellboy asked eagerly. “Where’d you get it?” 

“He got it from me,” Spellman cackled as he sauntered around the corner with a small army of robot clowns in tow. Kingpin shrank away from him and backed toward the edge of the pit. 

“What are you?” Rose growled, warily pacing back and forth and placing herself between the clown and her companions. 

“An energy entity from the Jeggorabax Cluster,” Spellman said with a chilling smile. His form shimmered and he disappeared, reappearing far closer to her than he had previously been. “But you can call me the Pied Piper if that suits a historical mindset.”

“Oh God,” Rose muttered, tensing. “But the Piper was on Earth.” 

“Yes.” Spellman scowled. “My form originates from a meteorite that landed in the dark times. I fed on the fear of the parents when their children were taken, and continued to do so in small increments for the next five centuries. I was stopped by a meddling reporter and her troublesome troupe of tagalong neighborhood children.”

“How?” Spellman smiled at the question. It was a nasty smile. 

“Well, seeing as the opportunity is unavailable to you, I’ll explain. Miss Smith trapped my meteorite in a special box and hid it where none would find it.” He laughed. “That is, until four centuries later when she was long dead and building development cracked the box open. I ensnared a pioneer in the space frontier to take me away. Centuries after that, I ended up in the Circus. I knew it would travel, and putting up with the happiness of fans was bearable due to the fear of clowns when people saw me. I just had to bide my time.”

He spread his arms. 

“And here you are. Oh, I have _feasted _these last few years in luxury!” 

“It’s gonna be slim pickings when the Doctor and I get done with you,” Rose promised. “Kingpin, do what you have to do to shut this thing down.” He swallowed and held the medallion before the pit as Rose and Mags turned to Wolves, falling upon the robots with claws and fangs. Bellboy shrank back against the wall in shock as Spellman laughed at the chaos, utilizing previously-unknown telekinetic powers reanimate the robots as they fell regardless of their wiring issues to hamper the Wolves’ progress. Kingpin stumbled and lost his grip on the medallion, and it fell into the misty well.

~§§~

“So how does this work?” The Doctor asked, rocking back on his heels. His hands were still in his pockets, but he pulled them out as he began to pace the tiny arena. “I’m stuck down here now, for the rest of my _very _long natural life, to entertain you? Doesn’t seem quite fair. All I did was walk through a doorway. Or did you bring me here because I was causing trouble, hmm?” His gaze darkened. “How many victims have you murdered for sport in this very arena? And then? When the Psychic Circus came. How many then, in the big tent? Was it worth it?”

“We feed on fear, but we grow bored,” the ‘father’ replied in a deep and resonating voice that didn’t in any way sound normal. “We require entertainment.” 

“You require nothing!” The Doctor spat. “The Great Old Ones require only to exist. They survived before the birth of the universe by pure force of will and they will survive long after it through pure force of will. The gods of Ragnarok not least among this pantheon. Yet you persist in this- this _senseless slaughter_. Have you truly grown so bored that your contempt for ephemeral species has turned to malice?” 

“Enough!” ‘Mother’ ordered. The Doctor fell silent, jaw clenched as he glared at them. “You have said enough!”

“Oh, have I now? Well that’s good to know,” he retorted sarcastically. “Always good to know when I’ve overstayed my welcome, outlived my usefulness, prattled to the point of primordial obliteration- I can go on. But, tell me. For such _omnispective _persons, you’ve been quite blind to what’s been going on in the universe around you outside of this tiny planet Segonax. Why is that? Why have you limited your focus here?” 

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, surprise permeating every feature on his face as certain things clicked into place. 

“Oh, but you _aren’t _omnispective anymore, are you? Not unless an object bears your symbol. You’ve lost power.” The hands went back into the pockets, the feverish pacing slowing to an ambling stroll. “I first became aware of the _continued _existence of your kind in my second incarnation, when fleeing from some Dominators on Sulkis. Jamie and Zoe were with me; we ended up in a Land of Fiction. That was your handiwork, though I always wondered why it had been abandoned. Everywhere I went after that I was careful to disable any of your traps and snares when I chanced across them so no unsuspecting innocents would tumble into them. That’s it, isn’t it? You’ve been weakened, your influence stripped away piece by piece. And now, what? This is my punishment? Let me guess. You want me to...”

“Entertain us!” ‘Father’ boomed. ‘Mother’ echoed the sentiment.

“Or die,” ‘Daughter’ added. 

“No, see, that’s not how this is going to work,” the Doctor retorted quietly. “You’re done giving commands. Shoot your lightning at me all you want. My part in this is over, my friends will stop you. It doesn’t matter what happens to me, because they’ll prevail. Up until the moment I saw you, I was prepared to negotiate. To work toward peace. But I know what you are and what you want, the singular thing you want, and I know that is impossible.” A slight smile overtook his features. “So get on with it.” 

Deafening silence met his words, the statuesque people entirely still in their seats. The Doctor’s smile widened as he sat cross-legged on the ground looking up at them.

“See? There’s no fun in it anymore,” he needled, taking out a cricket ball and tossing it carelessly from one hand to the other just to have something to do with his hands. After a little while where his ungracious hosts continued to stare balefully at him with - he assumed - eyes full of hatred, he tired of the game of catch and began working on a cat’s cradle with some string he’d found in his pockets. 

He could have spent minutes or he could have spent hours in that position (he couldn’t tell, his time sense skewed by the different dimension) at a standoff with three Great Old Ones as if it were any other day, when something dropped onto his head from the sky. Wincing, the Doctor fumbled for it in the dirt and smiled. Kingpin’s medallion, the iris and pupil restored. 

“Things are _looking _up,” he said with a cheeky grin. The gods of Ragnarok roared with displeasure, lightning raining down quite suddenly around him. With considerable effort he focused his mental powers on the medallion and shielded himself with it, energy rolling off of it in waves and destabilizing the dimension as the lightning rebounded and contributed to the destruction. 

“Not possible!” ‘Father’ exclaimed, his stone mask cracking right down the middle. ‘Daughter’ screamed as her pedestal crumbled and she toppled forward, her body shattering into a thousand crumbling pieces. Mother was roaring with anger as she sank directly down into the earth. 

“You created the means to your own destruction,” the Doctor retorted evenly, usually-warm sky blue eyes cold and hard. “All the pain, all the suffering you put innocents through, simply because you were bored. There’s an old poet of Delviin that summed it up beautifully, I think.

_They sit resplendent on crumbling thrones_

_And at the end their power wanes_

_Give up their reign to succumb to the stones._

This was your own doing. You’ve made your bed. Now lie in it.” 

At that, the Doctor cast wildly about his breaking surroundings and eyed the misty firmament curiously. Taking a chance, he started to climb.

~§§~

Rose’s face was barely an inch away from the Doctor’s as she grasped both of his hands in hers and tugged backwards, her immense strength easily hauling him over the edge of the pit and back into the tunnels.

“Took your time,” she chided. “Everyone else is out already. The entire place is collapsing, the tent included. We’re gonna have to leg it to get out of here.”

“And this is different from any other Tuesday... how?” The Doctor asked cheekily, getting the words out in between pants for air. Superior physiology or no, a steep climb like that would take _anyone’s _breath away. 

“Cheek,” Rose muttered affectionately, linking their hands together out of habit. She practically dragged him from the circus and through the main ring, out the entrance, and far to the road where the other three were waiting for them. They all watched as a bright pink light shot into the sky above the collapsing tent, an ominous rumbling sound emanating from it, before everything appeared to get sucked into the earth.

“What happened there?” Bellboy asked, cautiously curious.

“Oh, that was the pit sealing itself closed forever,” Kingpin explained offhandedly. The Doctor, who by this point had his hands braced on his knees as he hunched over trying to replenish his bypass from both the climb and subsequent dash afterwards, nodded in affirmation. 

“Who were they, though?” Mags asked. “Really?” 

“Better question,” Rose countered with a smile, “is what the three of you are going to do now.” 

“I don’t want to make another large circus,” Bellboy said immediately. “And the Psychic Circus is done. The mere name...” he shuddered. 

“We... could be a traveling triple act,” Kingpin suggested tentatively. “Mags with her... natural talents, you could display your wonderful inventions. And me? Well, I’ve always been partial to street mimes. What do you say?”

“I like it,” Mags said immediately. “I... I’m not sure I can control my abilities, but we can be cautious. And the more I practice, the better I’ll get.”

“I could invent again? No more clowns?” Bellboy murmured thoughtfully, hope creeping into his voice. He touched Flowerchild’s earring on his jacket and smiled softly. “We could set up on a colony world. I could- I could have a stall, and teach classes on mechanical engineering, and, and-“

“Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out,” the Doctor rasped, finally straightening with one last desperate inhale. “I wish you all the best.”

“You two take care of yourselves,” Mags replied with a smile. “Get into enough trouble for an entire _group _of lifetimes, you two.”

“Oh, if only you knew...” Rose laughed, nudging the Doctor with her elbow. He at least had the decency to be bashfully honest, as he grimaced and ducked his head whilst ruffling the hair at the back. 

“Yes, well...”

“See you around sometime, yeah?” Rose suggested hopefully as she gave each of them an enthusiastic hug in turn and then stepped back to lean lightly against the Doctor’s arm. 

“Definitely!” Bellboy said enthusiastically. There were happy nods from the other two. 

They said their goodbyes at Peg’s market stall, where the TARDIS was parked and on the way to the spaceport. The Doctor was quiet as he took them into the Vortex so Rose went and made them some tea. As she approached the library with a mug in each hand she paused in the doorway and smiled.

A certain Time Lord was sprawled on one of the larger couches with one leg hanging off the edge, arms crossed over his torso as his head reclined backward against the pillow of the armrest. His mouth was open ever so slightly, eyes closed, and he looked so exhausted that she felt a pang of sympathy for him. 

He’d lost his shoes, how she was afraid to ask, and his socks with the hilarious Einstein puns on them were all dusty and frayed. He’d tossed his coat haphazardly on the floor, his cricket jumper mostly pulled off but caught around the shoulders as if he’d collapsed in the middle of tugging it off. 

Quietly, Rose grabbed a blanket and draped it over him before retreating to her bedroom for a well-earned kip of her own. 

~§§~

“Hello.” Rose looked up from spreading jam on her toast the next morning and smiled at the truly rare sight of a sleep-tussled Doctor padding blearily into the galley. His nostrils flared once, twice, three times, and he walked straight over to the teakettle and poured himself a cup. After a few sips he looked back up at her, eyes much clearer. “How was your night?”

“Fine,” Rose chirped in response. Wordlessly, she handed him the knife and he hummed appreciatively as he spread some toppings on his own toast and slid into the chair direct across from her at the table. They ate in silence for a few moments before he spoke again.

“When Mags changed her clothes didn’t... what I mean to ask is...”

“You’re embarrassed it took you so long to notice, aren’t you?” Rose remarked perceptively, smiling as the Doctor became flustered at being caught out.

“...Well. But, what exactly _happens _to your clothes when you shift?” 

“So, it took me a little bit to figure it out, but entirely organic materials shift with me. It’s like my body just... naturally sorts it into the new genetic configuration, then converts it back. Synthetic stuff just rips. I stopped wearing any of it ages and ages ago.”

“That’s ingenious.” He was looking her over appreciatively, quite obviously admiring the efficient way her body conducted itself over even so trivial a matter. He had at first been wary of her transformations, then respectfully distant from the topic, then curious. It was only recently that he’d begun to openly show his fascination in them, and Rose was still trying to figure out a way to tell him that she didn’t mind the questions. She could practically see them, bubbling under the surface at all times, and she ached to be able to talk to someone about all of it. 

So, maybe...

“You can ask, you know,” she found herself blurting out without her brain entirely aware of what her mouth was doing. “About any of it.” He blinked. 

“Are you sure?”

“I... yes,” Rose decided, nodded. “I’ve never been... never been able to, not with anyone. It feels good to talk about things.” The Doctor beamed at her and nodded, obviously filing that permission away to bombard her with questions at a later date. He then polished off his breakfast and leaned back in his chair, studying her passively.

“So, Dame Tyler-“ he waggled a mischievous eyebrow as she laughed- “how would you feel about taking a trip to a little-known vacation spot in the Caribbean on New Earth since you missed it on your birthday yesterday?” 

“Sounds promising,” Rose replied, also leaning back in her seat. “Year?”

“A little after five billion.”

“Mm. Climate.”

“Pack a swimsuit and a wrap. With your physiology, no sunscreen required.” 

She leaned in over the table and he mirrored the action.

“Sounds like a deal.” 

They both grinned at one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: The Caves of Androzani. 
> 
> (See? Told you I had a good reason to drag my feet. While the story is stupendous it means I have to watch it several times to be able to do a decent rewrite and it makes me sad)
> 
> So, while the part where the Doctor is in the realm of the gods of Ragnarok is very funny as he performs magic tricks to bide time, it’s more a Seventh Doctor personality trait in my opinion. The Fifth Doctor, while capable of such things, isn’t disposed to it. He wouldn’t enjoy it. And, unlike Seven who came to the Circus specifically to get rid of the gods of Ragnarok as part of one of his schemes, Five showed up completely unaware they were there. To have him have an entire illusion skit prepared wouldn’t make sense, neither for personality nor plot. Being quietly defiant and trusting Rose to have his back is, by this point, far more in character, and even more so when you consider that he irritated them to the point where it was no longer worth it to kill him. Five doesn’t plan things to influence cause and effect unlike some of the other Doctors do. He reacts to things instead, living far more in the moment and taking things as they come and go. Far more content to be an observer than an architect. 
> 
> The Land of Fiction is from the Second Doctor story ‘The Mind Robber’ in season 6.


	13. The Caves of Androzani I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PART 1 of 4
> 
> Oh boy here we go. Wish me luck.

If someone had asked Peri two years ago whether or not it were normal for a British, battered and slightly scorched, big blue police box to materialize out of the Time Vortex in the middle of the quad of her Uni, she’d have said they were experimenting with recreational substances. And yet here she was, ignoring literally everyone else at the Homecoming pep rally gearing up for the big game, with a wide smile on her face and an overnight bag resting by her feet, as the TARDIS did just that. 

When the wheezing, groaning, glorious sound of her best daydreams tapered off and the ship had fully materialized the door opened and Rose came running out to give her a squeal and a hug. Pedi laughed as they embraced, finding it necessary to regain her footing, and from her position peering over Rose’s shoulder she could easily see the Doctor step onto the threshold and lean against the doorframe, a wide grin in place as he shoved his hands into his pockets. 

He stepped past the two women to grab up the overnight bag and set it just inside the ship before locking up and turning to them enthusiastically.

“Right then. Rose wanted some Californian sunshine and I want to stock up on our supply of peanut butter. Anywhere we can do both reasonably well before going out to eat for the morning?”

“Morning? Doctor, it’s six at night!” Peri protested. Rose rolled her eyes and slung an arm over the other woman’s shoulders. 

“Relatively speaking,” she explained off-handedly. “I only just got up about an hour ago, and the Doctor’s given up pretending he doesn’t operate by my schedule anymore.” She leaned over slightly to whisper loudly in Peri’s ear, pretenses pointedly exaggerated. “He’s addicted to my tea.”

“And you’re addicted to my honey waffles,” the Doctor countered, raising an eyebrow and making it clear he had heard her - just as she had wanted him to. “So we’re at an impasse. However, American diner? Should be able to find a place this close to a university campus that does breakfast 24/7.”

“The pair of you are absolutely hopeless,” Peri sighed in mock-exasperation. She shook Rose’s arm off and sauntered away. “Come on.”

“Told you to check the time before we landed,” She heard Rose whisper behind her back as they fell into step with her as chaperone. 

“Oh, hush,” the Doctor whispered in retort. Peri rolled her eyes. “Waffle time is all the time.”

“Good excuse. Still bad driving.” 

“How are you my friends?” Peri groaned. She didn’t dare look behind her, knowing that they were both wearing matching cheeky grins that oozed self-satisfaction at eliciting the reaction from her that they’d been aiming for, and instead marched down the sidewalk toward her favorite study spot: a tiny hole in the wall café that served the best crêpes and milkshakes she’d ever eaten. It would be more than a match to satisfy Rose’s love of protein-heavy morning meals and the Doctor’s somewhat alarming devotion to all tooth-rotting brunch foods. 

As predicted, Rose ordered eggs and meat with a small piece of toast on the side and a plain black coffee and the Doctor a stack of chocolate chip waffles (topped with powdered sugar and syrup) and a banana milkshake. Peri, for her part, ordered a simple peach-filled crêpe and a hot chocolate. She tucked in and hid an exasperated smile behind the mug of her beverage as the pair sitting across from her periodically stole from each other’s plates, seemingly entirely unaware of the fact that Platonic People™️ didn’t do things like that and were totally at ease with the situation regardless. 

It didn’t help that the Doctor paid for the both of them; regardless of whether or not Rose carried any money for the 1980s on her person or not it still sent signals, and Peri pointedly ignored the soft cooing sounds some of the waitresses were issuing from behind the register whenever they looked toward the direction of their table. Sure, it had been adorable when she’d first been traveling with them... 

...Now she was fed up with trying to get them to realize they needed a good snog. It was a whole process. Turlough just laughed whenever they chatted over the phone and she complained about it, but then again he’d lived with it, full time, for longer than she had at part time. 

Did the TARDIS have lockable closets? 

As promised, Rose got her fill of sunny California and the Doctor got his peanut butter before they all walked back to the TARDIS for a short holiday for Peri, the Wolf and the Time Lord habitually swinging their hands between them and Rose smugly telling both he and Peri what the dogs in the dog park were saying - and the Doctor definitely did _not _pout a little bit at her knowing a language he didn’t, not at all - and they arrived back on campus with things pretty much unchanged from when they had left except that it was a tiny bit darker outside. 

“Where were you thinking of going?” Peri asked eagerly as they swept through the door. She smiled up at the ceiling as the TARDIS hummed in greeting and leaned on the edge of the console. 

“Sand!” The Doctor said enthusiastically. Peri frowned.

“‘Sand?’” She echoed, looking to Rose for an explanation. Rose rolled her eyes. 

“The Doctor’s got it in his head to pay a visit to Androzani Minor for some reason. No beaches, Peri. Just desert.”

“It’s a silica mining planet, actually,” the Doctor chirped, otherwise ignoring them as he dropped underneath the console and twined some frayed wires together. “Some of the TARDIS systems are acting up and I need the silica to repair them.”

“And that can’t wait until _after _Peri’s holiday?” Rose asked. 

“No,” he replied, coming back up and pressing a few buttons. “See, I want to show her a solar dust storm brewing off in the fringes of the Butterfly Nebula. Absolutely _gorgeous_, but it’ll be a bit of a bumpy ride.”

“Let’s get that silica then!” Peri said, brightening. “The sooner we get it the sooner we can go see that solar storm.” 

“At least _someone’s _interested,” the Doctor hummed. Rose muttered under her breath. “What was that?”

“I said that if you wanted silica so bad you could buy it at a market,” she muttered more loudly. “‘S not like you actually pay for it anyway, what with those unlimited credit sticks of ours.” 

“Our credit sticks aren’t always accepted for all transactions,” he countered smugly. “Besides, it’s still a new planet.”

“It’s a quarry!” 

“You just don’t want to have to clean dust from your fur again.”

“It gets stuck in my coat for _weeks_,” she groaned. Peri snickered, the idea of a Wolf having bad hair days immeasurably funny to her. Rose shot her a good-natured glare and then sighed over-dramatically. “Oh, all right then. Let’s get this over with.” 

“Splendid. Hold tight, Peri.” 

“You really weren’t kidding,” Peri whistled, kicking the turf with her shoe. “Sand.”

“Very sandy,” the Doctor agreed, taking in their surroundings. 

“Got some evidence of rocket pads over here!” Rose called from where she was crouching back on her heels. The other two walked to stand behind her and, while Peri didn’t really see anything out of the ordinary, the Doctor did. He knelt beside her and fingered what looked like glass, sniffing it delicately and nodding.

“Mm. Fused silica, most likely from thrusters firing. Might not be the only ones looking to save a few quid.” 

“Why does that not fill me with confidence?” Rose muttered. He grinned at her.

“Because you, Rose Tyler, have been traveling with me too long,” he chirped, waving the silica at her. She smirked in response. “Now, if you could tell me _how _I know that the ship had to have come from the twin planet Androzani Major, I’ll be _really _impressed.” When she continued to stare at him he made a vague gesture at their surroundings in general. “Go on.”

“What’s the winnings if I show you up in front of the Companion?” 

“Showing me up in front of the Companion.” 

“Mm... not enough incentive, sorry.” 

“Fine, fine.” He frowned at her in mock-annoyance as Peri stifled some snickers in the background. “Shall we say... loser makes breakfast?” 

“Deal.” There was a glimmer in her eye as she said this and he groaned. “So, to sum up, the ship had to have come from Androzani Major because the spacing of these rocket burns is too small and there are too few of them to belong to a larger spacecraft capable of greater distance trips. Out of curiosity, what are we having tomorrow?”

“See, this is why I don’t like making bets with you,” the Doctor grumbled, standing back up. “I always lose.” 

“Pretty sure that has nothing to do with her and everything to do with you,” Peri retorted, crossing her arms.

“Nah mate, it’s about half me half him,” Rose countered with a cheeky smile. “Half his incompetence, half my skill.”

“Oi!” 

“Not to interrupt this _charming _battle of wills,” Peri cut in dryly, “but what could have made these tracks?” They both glanced over and the Doctor smiled, switching gears immediately.

“That, Peri, was made by something called a monoskid. Very useful transport for heavy loads over small distances. See, the tracks.” He pointed at the two wavy lines furrowed into the soil. “Something heavy brought out, and it was much lighter when it came back...”

“Or vice versa?”

“The lighter one crosses the deeper one,” Rose corrected absently, frowning as she surveyed their surroundings uneasily. “I don’t like this, Doctor. There’s nothing here, so why would anybody have something to unload?”

“Good question,” the Doctor murmured, also surveying their surroundings. He pointed. “Those caves would be a good place to start.”

“Tight spaces, confined,” Rose chirped with false glee as she began skipping at his side. He rolled his eyes. “Just what the Doctor ordered.”

“Oh, hush.” 

“‘Is this wise?’ I ask myself,” Peri sighed as she followed after, taking a short pause before answering her own question. “Nope. Never is.” 

The planet was blistering hot, all exposed and sunny, and Rose soon shucked her hoodie and tied it about her waist. This left her in a white sleeveless (but not tank) top that clung to her figure in a pleasing manner, something which Peri pointedly drew attention to only for the both of them to shrug, and she openly gaped when the Doctor took off his coat, leaving him with his jumper. He then stuffed the coat into one of his trouser pockets, an action which should have been physically impossible but something which Peri had long since given up trying to find an explanation for. 

“Blowholes!” The Doctor exclaimed as they got closer to the cave, breaking Peri out of her reveries. 

“What?”

“Blowholes. Not caves.”

“Same difference.”

“Not to a speleologist, and not if you’re stuck in one of those things at high tide.” 

“If you even _try _and tell me speleology is a pastime hobby of yours I’m gonna smack you,” Rose commented with a raised eyebrow. He raised one right back. 

“Smack away then. It was during my Third Incarnation. I was trapped on Earth, there was only so much one could do before even the most mundane of topics became interesting to stave off boredom.”

“Most people take up a sport or pottery or something,” Peri muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You take up speleology. On the plus side, I always knew you were weird so I’m less shocked than I should be.” 

“Oh, come now, you must have picked up on some hobbies that others find strange during your self-imposed exile,” the Doctor protested, pouting slightly as he looked at Rose. He smirked as she became flustered. “Ah. There is. Come on, spill. What is it?” 

“I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” Rose replied sweetly. When he rolled his eyes, clearly not believing her, she sobered. “No, seriously. I did work for MI6. I would literally have to kill you.” 

“That would be tremendously ambitious of you,” he said quietly as he stared at her with wide eyes. Rose snickered. “Should I be afraid of that little laugh? Aspirin in my tea?” 

“Nah, you’d expect it,” Rose said easily, linking their hands together and swinging them back and forth. The Doctor watched the movement for a few moments before blinking and returning to the matter at hand. 

“Ahem. Anyway, the core of the planet is superheated mud. When it gets close to Androzani Major, the blowholes spew it hundreds of feet into the air like dirty geysers. They’re everywhere, so this place was never colonized. Last time I passed by this way, Androzani Major was becoming a tad full.”

“Go figure,” Peri snorted. “When was the last time you were here?” He paused, frowning, before shrugging.

“Don’t remember. Well, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t the future.”

“That sentence wouldn’t make sense coming from anyone else,” Peri sighed. “We’re not going into those tunnels, are we?” 

“I’d bet a good soak in the bath for my troubles that we are,” Rose muttered. The Doctor smiled at the both of them and continued on ahead. The deeper down they went the more paranoid Rose seemed to become, and after what felt like miles to Peri she suddenly stopped and let out a soft, strained breath. Her face was pale as ash.

“Rose?” Peri asked quietly, catching the Doctor’s attention. He stopped, swinging around on his heel, and quickly walked over to grip her shoulders in a gentle but firm hold. 

“You’re freezing,” he muttered, intrigued. “Has something like this ever happened before?”

“No stars down here,” Rose murmured weakly. “So cold...” 

“What does she mean, ‘no stars?’ Doctor?”

“Not sure, Peri. We don’t know much about her species, but from what I can tell starlight makes her strong. Not in the sense it dictates her transformations, mind. Just in general. She needs it like you and I need sunlight.” He frowned as he felt her pulse. “However... Rose, you didn’t have any problems with the tunnels on Segonax did you?”

“I felt queasy,” she admitted with a shrug. “But we weren’t as far down then.” 

“Interesting... do you want to go back to the TARDIS? I promise I’ll get the silica as quickly as possible and then come right back.”

“Not on your life,” Rose muttered stubbornly as she rubbed her arms vigorously, pulling her hoodie back from her waist and zipping it all the way up. When her teeth still chattered she pulled the hood over her hair. The Doctor was watching her with open concern, and after a few moments he pulled his coat out of his pocket and handed it to her. She put it on and clutched it tight to her chest. “Let’s go.”

“You’re getting a scan when we get back to the TARDIS,” he muttered. “I don’t like the way this is affecting you. If it’s a deficiency of some sort I may be able to synthesize it in case we run into caves you can’t voluntarily leave in the future.” 

“Or past,” came her sharp quip. They both startled out of their conversation as Peri slipped on the smooth surface of a fused silica floor, let out a yelp, and promptly fell down a shaft. “Figures.”

“Come on,” he sighed. “We’d better make sure she didn’t get hurt.” He paused when he realized this meant they’d have to go deeper, as the shaft went down, but Rose merely shook her head and slid down the steep tunnel. She landed on top of Peri in the midst of something that looked vaguely like spider’s web, and grimacing at the texture she hauled their friend out of the mess. 

“It’s horrible,” Peri complained. “What is it?”

“Not edible,” the Doctor murmured, wiping it off of her bare leg with his hand and giving it a quick sniff. His nose wrinkled and he quickly wiped it on his trousers. “By the smell of it, anyway. Probably quite harmless.” 

“It _stings!_” 

“Well, then don’t fall into any more, hmm?” The Doctor suggested, rubbing his hand on his trouser leg to abate the itching feeling on his own skin. He glanced over at Rose, who was in the process of scraping the stuff off of her jeans and hands on the nearest rough surface, and shrugged. 

As they rounded a corner he paused when they came upon a thick gaseous cloud, gesturing to Rose, and she rolled her eyes as she hefted the celery into the air.

“Why do you wear celery on your lapel?” Peri asked curiously. The Doctor opened his mouth to reply and glared at Rose when she started snickering. 

“Safety precaution,” he said with an offended sniff. “I’m allergic to certain gases in the Praxis range of the spectrum. The celery reacts to Praxis gases by turning purple.”

“Couldn’t you just get a regular detection... thingy?” Peri asked. 

“No, because the celery serves two purposes. It detects, and then I can eat it as an antidote-“

“All lies,” Rose laughed. “Not the part about using the celery to detect the stuff, mind. Just the reason why he has it. He thinks it looks _fashionable_.” Peri burst out laughing. 

“Oh, Doctor...”

“You two done?” He asked petulantly, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet while they laughed at his expense. “I want to get out of here as quickly as possible, get Rose some up-close proximity to some stars.” 

“Sorry, sorry. I just- celery? Really?”

“_Fashionable,_” Rose repeated with a soft smirk that abruptly faded as she stared straight ahead of them. “We’re not alone in here.” 

“Miners?” Came Peri’s hopeful question. 

“Nah. They sound a little too much like they’re trying to hide something for that.” She shook her head slightly and smiled weakly. “Shall we?” 

“I’m going first,” the Doctor said softly. When Rose looked like she was going to protest he lightly tapped her on the nose. “You’re not indestructible, my dear, no matter how hard you pretend otherwise, and you’re not feeling very well at the moment.” He gave her no time to answer as he walked on ahead through a narrow gap in the phosphorescent stone, and gritting her teeth she followed after him so that Peri had to bring up the rear. 

They entered into a wide cavern with a vaulted ceiling; crates were stacked tall and it looked in general as if someone had left in quite a hurry.

“Not mining equipment I take it?” Peri murmured quietly, opening one of the cases and revealing several bombs. 

“Mm... poison volatisers,” the Doctor muttered, hefting one up and turning it this way and that. “Nasty things. Used most often with despotic governments and rebel cells _fighting _the despotic governments. But there’s enough here to equip a small army.”

“Which is it, though?” Rose asked. “Rebels, or government-sanctioned army? And which side should we be rooting for when the chips are down?” Her head jerked a fraction of a second before the Doctor’s did; sound carried easily in the caverns. “Uh oh.” 

“What do we do?” Peri breathed as what we’re clearly uniformed soldiers came rushing in the same way they had come.

“Surrender?” the Doctor suggested with a long-suffering sigh as he was somewhat roughly frisked. Rose didn’t so much as bare her teeth in an instinctual manner, something which deepened his worry as she couldn’t generally help that autonomic response, and he made sure to walk close beside her as they were marched down the tunnels and into an occupied section. They were then herded into what obviously was the commanding officer’s- well, office. 

“Stand there,” a soldier snapped as he shoved them against the wall. Rose stumbled as he did this and the Doctor quickly moved to catch her, frowning slightly as she shivered in his arms. 

“Couldn’t we have a chair?” He asked the commanding officer pleasantly. The man still had his back turned to them. “It’s uh, it’s been rather a strenuous day.” 

“You will stay there until I’ve finished with you,” the officer retorted. He wasn’t angry, nor itching to assert dominance. He was merely calm and authoritative. “And when you address me, you will call me ‘sir.’”

“Please, sir?” The Doctor amended. “It’s not for me, it’s for my friend. She’s quite a bit under the weather, I’m afraid.” The man turned at this, and the Doctor was reminded of a strong parallel between him and Alastair. Dark hair, serious expression, even a magnificent mustache even if it didn’t hold a candle to his friend’s. He was dressed in a dark grey jumpsuit just like the rest of his men, the only denomination of his rank being the bright yellow shoulder portion. The other man in the room sported blue, the soldiers who had brought them in red. The Commander studied Rose’s pale complexion and the way she was struggling to stay standing and nodded.

“Major Salateen, if you would.” The other man present in the room immediately pulled one out and guided her to it. Peri stood close to her as the Doctor moved back to the center of the room, sighing softly and leaning heavily on the back of the chair to take the pain off of her leg. 

“Thank you, Commander...?” 

“General. General Chellak,” he corrected amiably. His gaze flicked to the two women. “Forgive my saying, but you aren’t the usual lot I expect to find down here.”

“Arms dealers, you mean?” The Doctor quipped. “No, I shouldn’t think we do. My ship landed here, you see. We were forced to make an emergency stop at the nearest silica source. The wiring needs it desperately.” Not entirely a lie, though it had some great exaggeration in it. “Peri there-“ he pointed at the woman in question- “slipped down a shaft and we had to follow her down. Too steep to climb back up, I’m afraid.” 

“And what is your name, then?”

“I’m generally known as the Doctor. My friend, who you were so kind as to accommodate, thank you very much, is Rose.” The wan smile he had in place faded quickly. “What’s this about an Android rebellion? Some of the men in the tunnels were talking about it, but last I heard this sector of space was enjoying a long stint of peace.” He winced and clenched his hand against his leg. Chellak either didn’t notice the movement or didn’t care. A piece of machinery dinged and he turned to answer it.

“Yes?”

_“Signal, sir. Trau Morgus is on vid. Wants to speak to you immediately, general.”_

“I’ll take it.” Chellak nodded to one of the soldiers who’d brought them in. “Take them into the adjoining room. I’ll be done with this shortly.” 

They were escorted none too gently - though not roughly either, to the Doctor’s relief - into what was obviously a makeshift brig and watched as the door closed behind them. It locked with a hiss, and letting out a sigh both Rose and Peri sank onto the hard bench bolted to the wall. 

“I don’t think he likes us very much,” Peri muttered. The Doctor merely raised an eyebrow at her and said nothing. 

His time sense dutifully told him they’d been waiting less than five minutes when he and Peri were escorted back into the office to Chellak and who could only be Trau Morgus having a bit of a spat over the vidcomm. 

“Tempers getting a little frayed, are they?” He chirped pleasantly. He nodded to the general. “Thank you for leaving our friend in the other room.”

“She didn’t look to be in much condition to stand for long,” Chellak said easily. 

_“You are the one who calls himself the Doctor,” _Morgus pointed out redundantly. 

“Are we to address you as _sir?_” The Doctor asked, his usual disregard for authority figures in general asserting itself. 

_“Better you don’t address me at all,” _Morgus said with a frown. _“I merely wish to inspect you.” _The Doctor made a face and Peri bit her lip to keep from laughing. _“To see the kind of creatures capable of betraying the golden vision of our glorious pioneers. Already I feel contaminated. Get rid of them.”_

“With respect sir, I have doubts- as I said previously- about their involvement,” Chellak sighed. “But as you wish.” They were promptly escorted back to the brig.

“Catch all that?” The Doctor asked as soon as the door was shut. Rose nodded.

“Hard to hear, but possible. Chellak’s arguing with that Morgus bloke over us being executed right now.” Her head tilted slightly. “He’s not in favor. If I were to say that Morgus was middle-aged, receding hair, a little pudgy, how far off would I be?”

“Throw in a very opulent office safe on Androzani Major and you’ve got him down to a T,” the Doctor muttered as he paced the tiny cell. Peri, mostly to get out of his way than anything else, sat next to Rose again. “How are you feeling, by the way? Any weaker?”

“Nah. It’s more like, the deeper underground I go, the worse it gets, but then it holds steady.” 

“Interesting...” the Doctor pulled out a tiny notebook and made an entry. He’d taken to doing that shortly after Rose had begun traveling with him, jotting down things to look into more at a more opportune time. 

“Morgus wants us dead,” Rose whispered. “Chellak agreed. Think he has to. Corrupt politicians and all that.” 

“Pleasant.”

“Unfair,” Peri sighed. “I just wanted a vacation.” 

“I am sorry for dragging you into this mess, Peri,” the Doctor apologized. “I should have decided to pay for the silica somewhere else the moment we found those monoskid tracks.”

“It was an adventure, and neither of us can ever resist,” Rose pointed out gently. “Look sharp. We’re about to be summoned.” On cue, the door opened and they were all ushered back out into Chellak’s office. 

“Execution?” The Doctor asked, raising an eyebrow. Chellak blinked in surprise. 

“Well, yes. I’m sorry, but appealing the decision would be pointless.”

“Deep pockets, this Trau Morgus.”

“Yes.” Chellak grimaced. He turned as the door opened and Salateen stepped in, expression grim. 

“Message from captain Rones, sir. His men are under gas attack.” Chellak straightened immediately. 

“Where?” 

“Ambushed in the narrows.” 

“That’s barely 600 meters from here! Muster HQ platoon!”

“Falling in now, sir.”

“I’ll take them out.” Chellak eyed his captives and sighed. “These three, detention cells. I regret to say that they will need to be prepped for execution.”

“Convenient timing,” Rose pointed out with a sigh. “You’re suddenly too busy to deal with us.” Chellak paused at the door, brows knitting together thoughtfully.

“Yes... it is, isn’t it?” He then swept out into the corridors. Major Salateen was looking at them gravely, sympathetically even.

“Can I presume that, as off-worlders, you haven’t heard of Death Under the Red Cloth?”

“Afraid not,” the Doctor muttered, rubbing at his hand. “But I have a feeling you’re going to tell us.” 

“After death, your bodies are taken to the Field Cremation Unit. Your ashes are then wrapped up in a red cloth, which stands for execution, and then disposed of according to your wishes.” He winced. “However, seeing as you aren’t- presumably- citizens of Androzani Major that will be an issue, won’t it? Uh, do your species even do cremations as custom? Any religious restrictions?”

“_My_ people don’t have cremation as a general rule,” Peri snapped. “We bury our dead.” 

“Mine _do_, but I’d rather avoid that,” the Doctor replied, giving an odd look at his companion. Rose just shrugged.

“No preference.”

“Uh, actually, with your um...” the Doctor ruffled the hair at the back of the head awkwardly. “It might be best to do cremation.” Rose’s eyes widened slightly and she nodded. 

“Oh, good point. Cremation please.”

“You guys are taking this _scarily _well,” Peri muttered. The trio were led toward the holding cells and dropped into one of the larger ones. Rose immediately sat on the ground with her back to the wall and heaved out a tired breath. Peri sat beside her, head dropping onto Rose’s shoulder. The Doctor, for his part, paced. 

“You know, Morgus was quite rude,” he muttered to no one in particular. “Had is paraded in front of him, but the moment he saw us, lost all interest.” His jaw stuck out slightly in a pout. “A man can take offense, you know.”

“We have an hour to live, and _this _is what you focus on,” Peri sighed. The Doctor huffed slightly and sat on the floor in front of them, legs crossed. 

“It helps to keep the mind off of impending execution,” he explained gently. “And I’be always liked puzzles. Curiosity, always been my downfall.” He frowned at the palm of his right hand and resisted the urge to scratch. “How’s your rash, by the way?” 

“Blistering. You?”

“The same. That fungus obviously had some very toxic properties.”

“You guys had an allergic reaction?” Rose asked with a slight frown, rousing herself enough to engage in the conversation.

“Well, yes,” the Doctor replied with a raised eyebrow, drawing her hands out of her lap and inspecting them. They were entirely unmarked. “You, it seems, did not.” 

“Really not much I _am _allergic to anymore,” she pointed out. 

“I just...” he trailed off and then started again after swallowing. “Sometimes it’s too easy for me to forget you aren’t human when it comes to things that might plausibly kill you.” 

“Yeah?” Rose smiled gently. “Lemme tell you a secret. I’m the same way about you.” The Doctor blinked in surprise before the ghost of a smile graced his lips. He settled more comfortably on the floor as he fell into a contemplative state. 

“Mm. The sentiment is highly appreciated, let me assure you. Peri...”

“What, Doctor?”

“Morgus said that Spectrox was the most valuable substance in the universe.” 

“Is that what they’re mining down here?” 

“Oh, it’s a distinct possibility. The silica was extracted ages ago. You can tell by the fissures in the stone.”

“Landed too late, huh?” Rose commented perceptively. The Doctor shrugged. 

“I suppose. But the real question is what Spextrox _is _exactly. There are only a handful of things in this universe and that can attain that label over breathable air, access to vital resources, and shelter. And none of them are particularly pleasant, I’ve found.”

“So whatever it is, it isn’t good,” Peri summarized flatly. 

“No...” They all startled as a section of the wall slid open and revealed a faceless humanoid pointing a gun at them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just noticed what story number I had this labeled as. It may be chapter number thirteen, but this is story arc number five. And I’m writing ‘The Caves of Androzani.’ How. Why. What even. 
> 
> Additionally, I realized I’d made Rose a little too OP in the previous chapters and that I needed to start sprinkling in some weaknesses (come on, if the Doctor’s species has some then Rose’s should too). So, aside from silver, low proximity to starlight affects her. This will not be immediately properly explained as I have plans, but eventually. 


	14. The Caves of Androzani II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, for those of you who have seen this, the story diverges more here. I still get all the important information across that is vital to the plot, but in a different way. The reason for this will be easily apparent to those who have seen it before, but to sum up there are certain Creep Factor™️ Scenes and dialogue that Rose would never have allowed to have gone on as far as they did in the actual episode, whereas the Doctor clearly wanted it to stop but wasn’t in a good position to do so (Rose wouldn’t have cared one way or the other as she leaps before she looks).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of 4 

“Normally I would consider it polite to thank my rescuer for, well, rescuing me, but then again most of them don’t have a gun pointed at me,” the Doctor said casually as he placed himself squarely in front of Peri. 

“He smells like metal and oil,” Rose growled. “He has no heartbeat.”

“Mm. Android then. Chellak said there was a rebellion going on.”

“You will come with me,” the mechanical voice commanded. The Doctor blinked as three other androids were brought out, each a perfect copy of them.

“Well, now. Where did these come from?”

“Move.” 

“But- oh all right. Escape first, ask questions later. Awfully boring and cliché way to go about things, but there you go.” 

“Hurry up,” Peri whispered fiercely as she cast a glance at the door. “They’re coming over.”

“Right.” He nodded, pulling Rose to her feet and frowning when she wobbled a bit. “Careful. Looks like we’ve got a bit of a walk.” 

“Doctor, if you asked me to, I’d break into a run,” she sighed tiredly, resting her head on his shoulder. “Just give me a heads-up first, yeah?” 

“Of course.” They linked their fingers together and he carefully pulled her along as fast as possible. They were led at gunpoint out of the tiny cell and down the secret corridor, Peri stumbling every once in a while due to uneven ground and poor lighting. Well, that and the fact that her leg was practically killing her, it had begun to hurt so much. 

At the end of a rather confusing maze of narrow paths was what was obviously a control center of sorts, and standing with their back to them was a humanoid figure bedecked in a tight black suit with a mask that was split vertically down the middle; the right side white, the left black. The Doctor rolled his eyes at the melodrama and pointedly cleared his throat, at which point the figure turned to look at them and they could see that the mask had skits for the eyes and mouth and the color separation wasn’t uniform, but rather stylized with interesting patterns.

“Ah, Doctor. Rose, Peri. Welcome indeed. I’ve been so looking forward to this meeting.” 

“I’d say the same, but I don’t actually know who you are,” the Doctor retorted. The man tilted his masked head as if in contemplation before nodding. 

“Sharaz Jek. Or what’s left of him. I lead the Android rebellion in the system of Androzani.” 

“Pleasure’s all yours, I assure you,” Rose muttered. The pair were roundly ignored as Jek moved to gently grip Peri’s shoulders and then gestured toward a low bench. 

“Sit down. You must be tired.”

_Halter top and short shorts strike again,_ Rose mouthed soundlessly. The Doctor rolled his eyes as he fought off a smile and pointedly stared at the ceiling. 

“Yes, thank you very much,” he replied to the offer - though it hadn’t been extended to either of them - and they went to join their companion. There was a slight quiver to his voice as he smothered an amused tone, but the brief good mood abruptly faltered when Jek stood behind them like an eery shadow. Rose had her head resting on the Doctor’s shoulder with her eyes closed as she conserved her energy, and the Doctor seemed entirely unaware of the subconscious movement of his fingers combing comfortingly through her hair. 

“You’re not from Androzani Major,” Jek said without preamble, moving to stand in front of them. “Otherwise you’d have heard of me.”

“Points to you, you’re clever,” the Doctor sighed. He was in bad temper; seeing Rose weak was not something he was used to, his hand was beginning to hurt, and Peri was quite obviously in pain. 

“If you’re not from Androzani Major, then where are you from? Earth?” Jek continued as if he hadn’t spoken, something which only worsened the Doctor’s bad mood as he didn’t like being ignored and never had. 

“Yes,” Peri replied tiredly to the question.

“No,” the Doctor snapped. 

“Eh, depends,” Rose hedged, stirring just enough to summon some sly amusement. She gently nudged the Doctor with her elbow. “What era is it?”

“Decline of the Tribunal Affiliation of Allied Colonies.” Her nose wrinkled. 

“Ick. Never mind. Definitely not from Earth then.” 

“You are... an interesting couple,” Jek said after a few moments. 

“We’re not a couple,” came the immediate and dually-exasperated reply. Peri rolled her eyes and banged the back of her head against the rock of the cave wall. 

“Yes... I was a doctor myself once, you know. Before the study of Androids took over my life.”

“Fascinating,” the Doctor said flatly, making it clear he thought it was anything but. “Hate to say hello and goodbye within the same hour, but if you could just point us toward the surface-“

“Oh no, I’m afraid that will be quite impossible,” Jek chuckled. 

“Name one reason why,” Rose growled, tips of her abnormally sharp canine teeth baring ever so slightly as she watched their rescuer/possible kidnapper warily. 

“My reasons are my own,” Jek all but purred, voice oily yet somehow simultaneously silken. “I shall make you quite comfortable, I assure you.” As he spoke he paced behind them; Peri shuddered as his hand came to rest on her shoulder. 

“If you want that hand back, I suggest you keep it to yourself, you pervert,” Rose said in a terrifyingly even and low voice. Some of the color was returning to her cheeks as her eyes sparked with building ire. Jek made an audible swallowing sound and backed away. It wasn’t until he had moved to other parts of the complex that Peri breathed freely again. 

“He scared me,” she admitted with a shaky breath, curling up against the rock wall with her legs pressed close to her chest.

“Doctor, you should give Peri your jumper,” Rose suggested. He raised an eyebrow in confusion, clearly waiting for an explanation, and she patiently gave it to him. “It’ll be harder for him to ogle her if she’s got layers on. Plus, it’s a bit cold for the outfit she’s sporting.”

“Oh, of course Peri, I’m sorry I didn’t think,” the Doctor apologized as he slid the jumper willingly over his head and handed it to her. She took it gratefully, her tiny shivers subsiding as the warm fabric helped conserve her body heat in the damp and chill tunnels. “Is that better?”

“Lot less self-conscious now,” she muttered. “He still gives me the shivers though, just being nearby.” 

“He was a creep,” Rose stated definitively. “Or as I like to call them, ‘chew toys.’”

“You can play later,” the Doctor retorted as he moved to lay flat on his back on a low table and folded his hands across his stomach. “Right now, we need to think of a way to get out of here.” 

“I mean, an easy way to get out of here is me taking a liking to that stupid mask of his...”

“No.” She was half joking, he was mildly exasperated. They were both slightly amused. Peri shook her head fondly at the pair of them and paced a tight circle around the Doctor’s table as she worked a cramp out of her leg, entertaining herself by listening to the banter. 

“Not even a little light mauling?”

“No.” 

“What about the Androids?”

“Oh, by all means gnaw on them.”

“Working up an appetite?” Jek asked, startling them as he crept over to them. He stopped a good few feet away when Rose instinctually bared her teeth at him. He held his hands up to show a non-confrontational manner. “Salateen is bringing your food shortly.”

“Salateen, eh?” The Doctor quipped, barely deigning to raise his head to look at their congenial ‘host.’ “Knew there was something about him that screamed ‘double agent’ back in the military headquarters. Where’s he got off to then?” 

“He has responsibilities,” came the unconcerned reply. Jek was gazing longingly at Peri. “You’ve no need to worry for him.” 

“Why bother keeping us here?” Peri asked, shifting away from him and pulling the hem of the jumper down as far as it would go without letting the v-neck expose her chest where the halter top didn’t cover.

“My exquisite child, how could I ever let you go?” Jek asked as he walked slowly toward her. “The sight of beauty is so important to me.” The Doctor’s soft, sharp in-drawn breath was the only thing that kept Rose from launching herself across the room. As it was she growled at him from where she was still sitting against the wall as the Time Lord sat up purposefully, swung his legs over the side of the table, and stood to stand directly in between Peri and Jek. He flashed a charming smile that didn’t even come close to reaching his eyes.

“And... the stimulus of a mind nearly equal to my own, as well as the... charming company of your other friend,” Jek amended awkwardly. 

“Thank you,” the Doctor said in a tone that suggested anything but. Jek ignored the remark and pointedly circled around behind them again. 

“I’ve missed so much of life these last lonely years. But your arrival has changed all that. I’m sure... given time... we shall become the best of companions.”

“Yes, what do you say Peri?” The Doctor chirped sarcastically, protectively wrapping his arm around her shoulders and not so much as blinking as she shuffled closer toward him. “Nature walks, picnics? Jolly evenings around the campfire.”

“_Don’t _mock me, Doctor,” Jek snapped dangerously, the first word exploding with anger that had Peri yelping and running over to Rose and causing even the Doctor to stiffen in response. The rest of the sentence was much more tightly controlled. The pair ended up practically nose to nose as the former threatened the latter. “Beauty I must have, but _you _are dispensable.”

“Oi, Harvey Dent,” Rose snapped. “Quit threatening the Doctor, and quit giving Peri bedroom eyes. I’m about ready to come over there and poke ‘em out through those stupid mask slits.” Jek made an odd sort of suppressed squeaking sound when he turned to threaten her as well and was met with a flash of gold eyes and the temporary elongation of her fangs, abruptly turning on his heels to scurry off and leaving them alone once again.

“Glad you’re not too ill to lose that protective instinct,” the Doctor murmured, walking over to sit next to the two women.

“Yeah?” 

“Well, what I mean to say is that I’m glad you seem to have enough energy to let the Wolf come through a tiny bit,” he amended after a few moments of debate. “It means you have enough energy to continue to function in a reasonably healthy, if diminished, manner.” 

“Mm.” 

“Rose, you seem kinda... this seems to trigger you a lot, the way he’s acting,” Peri said carefully. “I mean, we’ve been loads of places where the both of us have been catcalled, had things shouted at us, on one occasion groped without consent and you sent that- whatever it was- home with a dislocated arm for its troubles. Why is Jek different?”

“He reminds you of Jimmy,” the Doctor guessed with a sympathetic grimace that turned into a concerned frown when Rose drew in on herself and said nothing. “Rose?” 

“It’s the lack of choice,” she finally answered in a small voice. “He’s going to force you to stay with him for the rest of your life if he gets his way, and with his army of Androids he could actually do it. He’s got major, _major _anger management issues and doesn’t seem to have issue with violence even by his own hand, considering the battle going on in the caves. I just...” Rose took a shuddering breath and swiped at her nose with the sleeve of the Doctor’s coat. “I’m such a mess. Jimmy... he never gave me the choice. He Bit me without asking if that was what I wanted. He would’ve forced me to be his mate too, if I hadn’t run.”

“There are a lot of parallels,” Peri summarized. 

“That’s not the whole story though,” the Doctor noted perceptively. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair when Rose looked at him with an expression clearly begging him to drop it.

“I- I don’t feel comfortable explaining... sorry.”

“No, it was my fault for asking.” Guilt crept into his voice as he forcibly dropped the matter. “Better question is what exactly is Jek’s plan, and why is he so confident it should work? Or, the best question, is why he thinks I would be only _nearly _his equal.” Outrage crept into his voice, as he had intended it to, as he mockingly imitated their captor. “_Nearly._ Only nearly. Incredible conceit, the complete egoist.” As he had hoped, both women smiled as they suppressed giggles and the atmosphere of the conversation lightened some.

“Two Truths and a Lie,” Rose said after a bit.

“What?” Peri mumbled from where she had almost drifted off against the rock, feeling warm and cozy in the Doctor’s cricket jumper. 

“We should play a game, to pass the time,” Rose explained. “Two Truths and a Lie. Pretty self-explanatory.”

“You say two things true about yourself and one false,” the Doctor summarized, brow furrowing slightly with interest. “But what do you do after that?”

“So, you make the three hard to recognize, and then the other people playing the game too have to figure out which one is fake. Group bonding exercise. And, to be honest, I’m not much up for anything too involved.” 

“Fine by me, I’m game,” the Doctor replied with a slight huff as he exhaled. “Let’s see... I’m a closet fan of _Star Wars _and have seen everything ever developed for it, well into the early 23rd century. My wife asked me for a divorce shortly after I became a Renegade because I no longer held true to our marriage contract. I actually hate celery simply on principle, almost as much as I hate pears, but it’s useful.”

“Celery’s the lie,” Peri said immediately, nodding toward his coat. Rose bit her lip and regarded him with a soft smile. 

“Nah. He’s never been married. He left before they could force him into the one they’d arranged.” Peri gaped at him, slack-jawed, as he grinned.

“B-but- but- but you wear- why-“ She caught herself and then exclaimed indignantly, “but you have a granddaughter! You said yourself two weeks ago that marriage contracts were specifically arranged for the sole purpose of genetically engineering offspring and forming political allegiances, and that outside of that there was no need for either a spouse or children!”

“I haven’t met Susan’s grandmother yet,” the Doctor explained gently. “Her mother or father has not yet been born. She was sent to me in my past to protect her from people looking for her, and when I sensed that she had come to a place where she would be hidden and protected I was expressly told to drop her there, assured that my future self would return to see her when the causal loop had been completed.”

“But the celery!” 

“Doctor, I think you broke Peri,” Rose chided amusedly. “She isn’t able to grasp the concept that you actually despise it.”

“Well, you go then. Take her mind off things.”

“Right-o.” Rose straightened slightly and shook out her hair, thinking a few moments. “The first time I shifted I was stuck like that for three weeks because I had no idea how to change back. Alistair put me in contact with all the other people the Doctor’s traveled with and we get together for a conference chat on the first day of the month. My dad would take me to the park every Saturday and I’d beg him to catch me when I jumped off the swings.”

“Please tell me it’s the second one,” the Doctor groaned, looking a little pale at the very idea. Rose shook her head and he grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like ‘no honor among old soldiers I see’ under his breath. “Well, which one was it then?” 

“First one,” Peri decided. “You said yourself your body’s got very advanced instincts about all that stuff.”

“It was the third one, actually,” Rose said softly. They both blinked at her. “My dad died when I was six months old, my mum raised me all on her own.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Peri squeaked. “I didn’t...”

“S’okay. Not like I ever mentioned it.”

“Why didn’t you ever say?” The Doctor asked. Rose raised an eyebrow slightly as she tried to figure out the emotion that had rapid-fire flitted across his face before he’d skillfully covered it under a carefully-even mask. It was... hurt. That she didn’t trust him.

“It happened a long time ago,” she said with an indifferent shrug. “Sure, it hurt when I was a kid. But now... s’just another part of who I am. Doesn’t bother me any.”

“And your accent gets thicker when you’re upset,” he murmured pointedly in response. Rose bit her lip and then smiled at Peri.

“Peri, your turn.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Peri muttered. “How am I supposed to top the pair of you and your revelations of lies?” They both gave her an exasperated look and she rolled her eyes. “Fine, fine. My family is from Baltimore though I go to university in California, I have two step-siblings, and my full name is ‘Perpugilliam.’ Pick one.”

“I want to say three but it’s too weird to be a lie,” Rose laughed. “Oh, God. Your parents must’ve wanted you to suffer. I’m so sorry.”

“I never got teased for it,” Peri retorted with a rueful smile. “Everyone apologized for my name instead, like it was bad enough they didn’t have to do any further damage.” 

“That leaves one or two then,” the Doctor said brightly. “And, your regional accent places you more in the Eastern Seaboard region of America than the West Coast. So, you’re originally from Baltimore. What made you choose Pasadena?” 

“What made you choose to become a perpetual nomad?” She retorted with the raise of an eyebrow. 

“Touché.” 

It was about fifteen minutes of entertaining themselves with multiple rounds of enlightening Two Truths and a Lie that Salateen walked in with three bowls of what looked like that slimy white foodstuff from _The Matrix _and smelled just as Rose had imagined such a substance would smell like. According to Mouse it was supposed to remind one of Cream of Wheat, but she decided she wasn’t taking chances seeing as she disliked Cream of Wheat on principle to begin with. 

“Pass,” she muttered as he put it down on the table, wrinkling her nose. Salateen shrugged. 

“Suit yourself. No skin off my nose whether you eat it or not.” 

“I can only assume by your marked change in demeanor that the version of you we met with Chellak is, in fact, an Android duplicate,” the Doctor commented mildly. “So how long have you been here, then?” 

“Months.”

“Well, how’d that happen?” Peri asked, effectively silencing the Doctor as he was bouncing slightly with a million questions locked on target ready to fire. He deflated somewhat but still maintained his rabid curiosity. 

“I was caught on a survey expedition,” Salateen explained coolly. “Jek replaced me with my duplicate and only kept me around as hostage insurance. Now that you lot are here he’ll have no more use for me. That’s me, dead.” 

“Not necessarily,” Rose countered. “Morgus was the one that wanted our execution. We’re no good as bargaining chips.” Salateen’s expression brightened hopefully.

“Really? He still needs me?”

“Pretty sure you’re safe.” 

“If you’ve been here for months, that means you know all the best ways out of here,” the Doctor interrupted, unable to remain silent a second longer. The man shook his head. His demeanor was much more congenial now to his fellow prisoners, though still resigned.

“I do, but it would be impossible. Sharaz Jek has cameras everywhere, even had my Android install some back in headquarters. Shifty one, that. Like a spider, sitting in a web of incoming information.”

“Every network has a vulnerabilit- Ah!” The Doctor cut himself off with an exclamation of pain as his entire arm went rigid from the shoulder down.”

“Doctor- what-“ Peri asked.

“Cramp, same as you had,” he muttered, sitting on the low table with a wince. Rose hummed sympathetically and began working the taut muscles loose, her superior strength making short work of what would have been a long job for anyone else. “Ah, that’s better. Thank you.l

“You’ve all got cramp?” Salateen asked sharply, concern exploding across his face. 

“They do, I haven’t,” Rose clarified. “Why? What was that stuff we fell into?”

“A Spectrox nest. It-“ he sighed and paced a bit. “It’s very toxic. They’re dying.”

“_What!?_” Peri shrieked. The Doctor paled.

“I uh, I don’t usually say this, but could you explain in layman’s terms what it is that’s going on?” He asked quietly. Salateen nodded.

“It goes in stages. The first is a rash, quite stinging I’m told and somewhat painful, then the second is cramps. Spasms. It’s early onset of the final stage, which is a slow but eventual paralysis of the thoracic spinal nerve. Then TDP.” Peri opened her mouth to ask and, anticipating the question, he continued. “It stands for ‘Thermal Death Point.’ Your body overheats and it kills you. It’s called ‘Spectrox Toxaemia.’ Seen dozens die from it. Pity, that. You seem like decent people, knowing I have no competition with you.” 

“And the cure?” The Doctor asked.

“There is none. Sorry.” 

“What exactly _is _Spectrox? What’s it composed of, why is it so vital to the universe if it’s so toxic?”

“Only the raw Spectrox is toxic, Doctor. Refined Spectrox is used to significantly slow aging, sometimes stop it entirely if one keeps their dosage up. Drastically extends human life. Now, the raw stuff. That’s deposits from the bat colonies. It contains a chemical similar to mustard nitrogen.”

“‘Mustard Nitrogen?’” Peri echoed. The Doctor sighed. 

“Mustard nitrogen is used in anti-cancer therapy treatments in the latter half of the 20th century and the early half of the 21st,” he explained. “However, it had its origin in originally being mustard sulfur, which you would know better as Mustard Gas.” He fixed his attention on Salateen again. The man wasn’t particularly regretful, more like resigned, but then again the Doctor couldn’t fault him for being detached from a pair of strangers when he’d already been desensitized to it. “We haven’t seen any bats.”

“No, I expect you wouldn’t,” Salateen muttered. “Because the raw stuff is so toxic, androids are used to harvest it. They’ve killed hundreds if not thousands of the creatures. See, we call them nests instead of deposits because the young spend a chrysalid stage in them. 3-year life cycle.” A thoughtful look crossed his face. “There used to be a cure. The milk from a Queen Bat would solve all your problems, but unfortunately...”

“Unfortunately the harvesting and killing drove the poor creatures deep into the ground where they wouldn’t be bothered,” the Doctor sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Typical. Let me guess, it’s inaccessible.”

“No oxygen, and some sort of vicious creature that tears everyone who’s tried to shreds.”

“Just another Tuesday,” Rose muttered resignedly, casting an exasperated look at the Doctor. “The things I do for you...” 

“You know I’d never ask,” he countered defensively. She shrugged. 

“I know. Doesn’t mean I can’t get annoyed from time to time though, because you and I both know I’m gonna do it anyway.” 

“And I greatly appreciate it every time,” he assured. “Salateen, if we’re in the second stage now how long have we got?”

“About two days.” 

“Mm. No time like the present then.” 

“Step out that door and the Androids kill you,” Salateen protested resignedly with a shake of his head. “They’re programmed to kill humans. I told you, it’s impossible.” 

“I can deal with the Androids,” Rose said softly. “But can _you _get us out of here once I do?” 

“I- get you where, exactly?” 

“Pointing us in the direction of the lower levels would be a great place to start,” the Doctor suggested. “And, if they’re programmed to kill humans, my species’ physiology is quite different. I’d rather you save your strength, Rose, for the lower levels. Your weakness gets worse the farther down we go. Let me handle the robots.”

“You’re not human?” Salateen asked, eyes wide. 

“No, and in all the ways that matter neither am I,” Rose muttered. “But I still read as one unless you’ve got some killer analyzing equipment.”

“I’d argue that, but we don’t have time,” the Doctor murmured, eyes soft. “I think you’re very human in all the ways that matter, Rose.” He cast a glance over at the control station, where Jek was hurriedly getting some items together. “Hello. Looks like the warden’s leaving the prison yard. We’ll just wait for him to leave, then fly the coop.” 

“You’re more the fox in the henhouse than the hens,” Peri grumbled, stretching her leg with a wince. “The way you stir up trouble.”

“Yes, _thank you Peri_. Very insightful.” 

“So... Sal. What’s Jek’s story?” Rose asked. “Since we’re passing the time waiting.”

“Jek used to work with Morgus to harvest Spectrox, built his Android workforce for him,” Salateen explained, merely blinking at the nickname and nothing more. “The plan was to split the return. But Morgus wanted to have it all, so he supplied Jek with faulty detection instruments and Jek was caught by surprise when the mud came up from the depths. He was badly burned, scalded within an inch of his life by the stuff. Pretty sure he survived purely through sheer force of will and determination to get his revenge.”

“Like Darth Maul,” Rose summarized sagely, smirking when the Doctor groaned. “He’s a bit...”

“Insane?”

“That’s one word for it.”

“Something that traumatic will do that to you.” 

“I guess.” Her left ear twitched slightly and she tilted her head. “Jek’s gone now, proper gone. I can’t hear him outside in the tunnels anymore.”

“Well, then it’s time we were going now isn’t it?” The Doctor suggested with a smile. He moved toward the door and eased it open, slowly slipping out and waiting for the Android to scan him apprehensively. “Hello.” The droid cocked its gun, sensor lighting up. After a few moments it turned off and remained passive. The Doctor smiled slyly. “Oh, what a clever little Android you are... now. We’ll just cut your solenoids, shall we?” 

Easing behind the Android, he disconnected a few wires on its neck and nodded proudly to himself. Rose quickly trotted out with the other two following more cautiously behind. 

“Show-off,” she chided good-naturedly. He grinned. 

“There’s some spare belts in that alcove,” Salateen said suddenly. “They get used like key cards to allow entry past the Androids. I uh... think I’m going to take the gun too, if you don’t mind.” 

“Where are you going after this?” Peri asked. 

“Back to Chellak, get rid of my double, tell him what’s been going on- the _whole _story including Morgus mind. All it will take to prove who I am is the disable my duplicate and rip its wires out of its head.” Salateen chuckled darkly. “That’ll be fun. But uh, I’ll show you the way down first, and I’ll get some men to escort you to the surface if you need. Either way, it seems I owe you my life and freedom. Least I can do.”

“Much appreciated, Salateen,” the Doctor replied gratefully as he handed one of the belts to Peri. He frowned. “There’s only two of these.”

“Keep yours, Sal,” Rose said quickly. “Your weapons can’t kill me. Hurt, yeah. Hurts like Hell. But I’ll live.”

“Thank you,” Salateen murmured, eyeing her as if he didn’t know what to make of her. She got that look a lot. He fumbled the belt on and sighed slightly in relief before picking up the spare gun and sliding it into his holster. 

They advanced cautiously through the tunnels, the Doctor at the front with Rose by his side and Salateen bringing up the rear. Peri had somehow ended up in the middle and wasn’t looking too pleased about it, but she made no complaints. They slipped and slid down narrow gravel tracks in the rock and had to climb over other boulders, their ascent always unfortunately turning into a descent just when they thought things had literally begun looking up. The further down they went the more pale and shaky Rose became, and it got to the point that the Doctor made her walk behind him so that in the case of a fall she’d land on him instead of tumbling down further into the dark. 

They had paused for breath when Peri shrieked, jumping out of the way just as an Android opened fire. She smacked into the Doctor and they all went crashing to the ground. 

“Rose?” He called, shaking his head after hitting it against the rock wall. When he got no response he panicked. “Rose!” 

Firing erupted farther down the tunnel as Salateen fired back at the Android but he ignored this, ignored Peri’s screams, as he searched for Rose. He finally found her crumpled on the ground and huffing a short breath of relief he looked her over, frowning at the deep gash on the side of her head. She’d caught the bullet full on; part of the skull was visible and cracked open, and he growled softly at that before scooping her up as gently as possible and carrying her past the smoking remains of the Android and followed in Peri and Salateen’s tracks. 

He heard the thundering approach of footsteps long before he saw the people the noise belonged to, and cursing under his breath in Gallifreyan the Doctor quickly hid behind a tall rock structure with Rose clutched tightly to his chest. The men seemed to be looking for someone; judging by their outfitting and demeanor her assumed smugglers or mercenaries (or both) and could only guess they’d made a deal with Jek that he’d double-crossed. After all, those contraband weapons they’d found earlier had to have been for _someone_. 

A deep, pervasive roar shuddered through the dim cave and shook loose some tiny stalactites from the ceiling. Gunfire erupted, along with screams, and the Doctor held his breath as the sound of the creature’s heavy body moved toward his hiding spot. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The joke about the celery in this, that the Fifth Doctor actually hates it, is from the Big Finish Story “The Gathering.” In real life, actor Peter Davison hates the stuff; there is a shot from “Castrovalva” where the Doctor eats celery and immediately after the scene he went and spit it into a bucket. In fact, in some stills of the scene you can see him bracing himself before he bites into it. Why such a seemingly-insignificant thing was deemed so important in the show is beyond me, much less worn on the coat as a decoration, but it’s funny when you think about it. 
> 
> There was no set time that this story took place aside from in the relative future, but I thought it would be funny to have Rose pick and choose when she claims Earth or not depending on what time era they’ve landed in. 
> 
> There has been some canon alteration that will be slowly expanded upon throughout the series. Just know that, in regards to the Doctor’s marital and paternal status before leaving Gallifrey, this is not how it happened in the show (though it was inferred rather than expressly stated in Classic and only ever vaguely alluded to in New aside from S4E6 which dealt with it more on the nose) and I am consciously aware of that but I have my reasons.
> 
> I have done some comparison work for regional accents and while Nichola Bryant has an affected accent not being American, it sounds more on the Maryland side than the California side (being Baltimore and Pasadena, her residence for university, respectively). As for Peri having two step-siblings, it was mentioned exactly once in an EU novel out of the numerous ones she’s been in and was never picked up again, so I assume it was discounted by everyone else. I thought it would be a cute little honorable mention though by making it the lie.
> 
> Additionally, the Series 12 finale was... interesting, to say the least. Know that I won’t be addressing anything in that until I see what Series 13 has to say about it, maybe provide some true clarification instead of a mess of confusing angst, and then I’ll be coming to a decision on whether or not I want to make a big deal about it in my series. As the novel I could possibly insert it into is far afield this won’t cause me any issues right now anyway, thankfully. And, luckily, Five is smack in the middle between being close to what potentially happened at the start and at the reveal (the two ends of the spectrum, 1 and 13) so in either direction you look the boat wouldn’t be rocking too violently in regards to how The TC affects the canon of his episodes *phew*


	15. The Caves of Androzani III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 of 4
> 
> P.S., I spiced up the giant monster from what it was like in the show because I have an active imagination, understand the budget and technology limits of the poor props department and am willing to suspend my disbelief, and because I couldn’t resist the temptation.

The footsteps of the as-yet unseen beast - the Doctor had really chosen the worst hiding place - stomped further away as the gunfire of the rest of the mercenaries/smugglers/whatever they were drew its attention and he breathed a soft sigh of relief, slumping against the rock. More screams pierced the air and he nearly jumped out of his skin when Rose’s eyes flew open mere centimeters from his own. He quickly put a hand over her mouth and pointed with the other in the general direction of the ruckus before releasing his grip and turning her head to get a good look at her injury. 

He gaped.

Moments prior the skull had been cracked open, the laceration deep and revealing more of the bone than the Doctor had been comfortable with. Much of the wound was still there, still visible. In fact, he could still see skull. But the bone had knit itself back together, and as he watched the flesh slowly started creeping around to cover it. 

_How? _He mouthed, pointing at his own head in emphasis. 

_Later, _Rose mouthed back as she slowly eased herself out of his lap where he’d been protectively clutching her to his chest and onto the ground. They both peered over the rocky outcrop he’d sheltered behind and stared with wide eyes at the bipedal bat. It didn’t really look all that much like a bat as they would have known it, though; in fact, on prolonged examination, they both arrived at the same conclusion and mouthed the same word.

_Dragon_. 

It had the head of a reptile, with long spindly arms and large bat-like wings. Clawed fingers that were less like fingers and more like talons swiped the air, a prehensile and ridged tail sweeping behind it. It’s hind legs, or only legs it seemed, were thick and stocky. Dark tan scales covered its entire body and a large maw revealed two rows of sharp, yellowed teeth set underneath entirely black eyes. 

As if things couldn’t get any worse, the ‘dragon’ suddenly leapt into the air and clawed its way upside down across the ceiling using wings and tail for balance with incredible speed. It let out a mighty bellow that sent more stalactites of larger variety crashing down into the tunnel before it pounced violently upon the remaining smugglers that hadn’t been able to flee.

Rose and the Doctor took the opportunity while it was distracted to run in the other direction; even weakened underground her adrenaline made it easy for her to outpace him hindered as he was by the Spectrox and with her right hand in his good one, his left, they escaped farther into the caverns. 

They ran for a good distance until they heard raised voices, coming to a halt too late to stop themselves from being noticed by the smugglers and the Androids. The rifles automatically raised and Rose flinched.

“Run, Rose!” The Doctor ordered, whirling about to grip her by the shoulders. They were so close their foreheads touched, his sky eyes ablaze with wild adrenaline. “Find Peri. I can handle myself much better than she can. Besides, she got the worst of the Toxaemia. Please, go.” He shoved her backward by the shoulders and spun toward the weapons. 

“But-“ 

“I’ll be fine! Go!” Rose growled and ran. The Doctor uttered a few choice Gallifreyan words under his breath as he faced Jek and the mercenaries.

“Doctor,” Jek said pleasantly. The Doctor pointedly descended the short ladder from the platform he was on to the dirt of the cave floor below, meeting Jek at the landing. “I hadn’t expected to see you again so soon. A pity your friend had... prior engagements.” 

“She wanted to save _face_,” the Doctor retorted, smiling slightly as Jek’s eyes narrowed and the line of his lips thinned through the visible portions of his mask.

~§§~

Chellak whirled about in bemused surprise as his Aide De Camp came barging into his office with a girl he’d accidentally executed the Android replacement of, looking more annoyed than anything else. 

“Salateen, what in-“

“I’ll explain in a minute general,” Salateen retorted between pants as he fought to catch his breath. Peri sagged heavily against the wall and he cast her a brief, concerned glance. “One escaped- prisoner- sir.”

“But the Android-“

“She’s real enough. Android’s legs don’t blister.” He cast a pointed look at her leg and was gratified to see Chellak follow his gaze. “Sharaz Jek smuggled in copies of all three of them, sir. And, I’m afraid, that he copied me.”

“You!?” Chellak exclaimed, disbelief and blooming horror coming to rest on his face.”

“Yessir. I’ve been held prisoner at his camp for months, what you thought was me an Android spy for Jek.” 

“You mean... I’ve had an Android as my ADC... without knowing it? For _months!?_”

“The copies are outstanding,” Salateen sighed. “And he’s incredibly clever.” 

“What a blind fool I’ve been,” Chellak murmured, sinking down into his chair and heaving a sigh as he did a facepalm. 

Peri let out a slight groan as she tried her best to remain upright, but then her bad leg gave out and she was leaning entirely against the wall. All three turned sharply toward the door in alarm as Rose burst through it, breaking it off its hinges. 

“And who is this then!?” Chellak exclaimed, irritated. Salateen opened his mouth but Rose beat him to it.

“I’m the girl who needed a chair because I was too weak to stand,” she snapped. Her tense, all but vibrating figure looked anything but powerless at the moment and it didn’t escape her notice that Chellak had unconsciously moved closer to the panic button. “Getting shot and pumped full of adrenaline will do wonders for your energy levels. I had to fight my way back up to this strata of the cave system. The Doctor just got captured by Jek again. I wanted to stay, but he told me to look after Peri.”

“Much appreciated,” Peri muttered, sliding down the wall. Rose immediately went over and knelt beside her, pushing her bangs back to feel at her clammy forehead. “Where’d you get shot, out of curiosity?” 

“The head. Nasty bleeders, head wounds. You holding up?” 

“Been better.” 

“How can I know to trust you?” Chellak asked suspiciously. Rose huffed, digging into the pocket of the Doctor’s borrowed coat and pulling out a large object. Salateen made an odd sort of retching sound as she threw the severed head of his android duplicate onto the floor, eyes still open but synthetically unfixed and dull instead of glassy. The skin was pale and looked more fabricated now that the “blood” had drained from it. Fluid and oil leaked from its mechanisms onto the clean white surface, giving it a slick and glossy appearance. “Ah... I see...”

“I _was _going to suggest we use my Android as a system for disinformation, but now...” Salateen scrubbed at his jaw with his hand as he regained composure, absolutely refusing to look at the proof of Rose’s allegiance. “Going totally dark can work just as well in our favor. If we disable all the cameras my duplicate put up over the last few months, Jek might think we’re planning to assault his base.”

“And are we?” Chellak asked, raising an eyebrow. He was still staring at the android head with wary respect, awe, and a trace of unease. He spared a glance for the blonde girl who was taking care of her friend and inhaled sharply. Her concern wasn’t docile. It was the controlled rage of a protector looking after an injured charge. He could relate only too well. Salateen smirked.

“Oh, yes. But not from this position. From the surface.” He leaned over and pulled up a map, taking a marker and drawing new data on top of it. “See, I got a good look at all of his charts in his base. The hubris of a man like Jek allowed me to have free range of his entire complex because he thought I’d never leave it again. I just so happen to know where the entrance to their smuggling shafts are.” 

“...Salateen, remind me to give you a promotion once we get back to Major,” Chellak said in a soft, amused tone. 

~§§~

“How is it that you were able to walk past my Androids?” Jek snapped; his voice indicated that he was clenching his teeth to keep his anger in check in front of the smugglers. 

“Trade secret, no can do,” the Doctor retorted blithely. He’d been sorely tempted to make another cosmetics joke but thought it best not to after taking in Jek’s demeanor. As it was, Jek growled low in his throat as an Android showed up with a few bags of white powder packaged into bricks.

“Take your Spectrox Stotz,” he hissed. The head smuggler nodded. “Eight kilos.”

“The suppliers aren’t going to like this,” Stotz pointed out.

“If they supply me the gas weapons, they’ll get more on the next shipment.”

“Yes, the story remains the same,” the Doctor sighed. “Humanity and its addiction to drugs.” His breath came out in a hiss through clenched teeth as Jek backhanded him unexpectedly across the jaw, and he glared at the man as he swallowed against the tang of blood in his mouth. 

“You will speak when spoken to, and there will be no further flippancy,” Jek said in an eerily calm and soft voice. “Where’s the girl? Where’s Peri?”

“With Rose,” the Doctor retorted. “Aside from that, I don’t know.” He managed a slight smirk. “But if you find them, have no doubt that Rose would quite enjoy ripping your entrails out if you so much as looked at Peri the wrong way. She’s protective like that.” 

“I could have my Androids draw and quarter you,” Jek warned. “Where. Is. The girl.”

“As I said, I don’t know. And you’d better pray that neither of them finds you if you lay a finger on me.” 

“I’m not afraid of any mere humans.”

“Rose isn’t human. And Peri... well. Let’s just say you never want to be the one that ate the last of the apple strudel in the mornings if she had a fancy for it. Wherever they are, they’re safe. That’s good enough for me.” 

“The soldiers’ camp,” Jek hissed. “I might have known.” The Doctor shrugged. 

“Maybe. Good on them, if that’s the case.” He raised an eyebrow in insolent fashion. “You done with all the posturing, or what?” 

“Take him away,” Jek muttered. His androids grabbed him by the arms and the Doctor struggled, reflexively kicking out. 

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to take him back to Major,” Stotz said quickly. 

“Why?”

“We think he’s a spy. Why else would he be snooping around?” 

“He told me he was-“ Jek made an impatient, nasty sound of exasperation. “It’s of no matter to me what he is. Take him! I must find the girl.” The Doctor went sprawling into the chalky ground as the androids released him, and he had only a second to gather his bearings before guns were being pointed at his head.

“When we get back to Major, you’re going to wish those Androids had done the deed here,” Stotz chuckled. He was behind the Doctor, where he couldn’t see his face, but he could tell from tone of voice that the smuggler was deriving some sort of sadistic glee from all of this. “You’ll he worked over by _experts _there, you see.” 

The Doctor was rather roughly hauled to his feet by strong, indifferent arms with a gun shoved between his shoulder blades as he was marched through the tunnels. 

~§§~

“And this will help her?” Rose asked as Salateen applied the hypospray to Peri’s arm. The Major nodded and Peri, who had been drifting in and out of focus with her head lolling on Rose’s shoulder, mumbled something incoherent before her eyes fluttered open with a wary expression. 

“It’ll keep the symptoms suppressed, but it can’t heal the Toxaemia,” Salateen said regretfully. He gently ran his hands expertly over Peri’s blistering leg and frowned. “Nasty stuff.”

“Is she in any condition to walk?” Chellak asked as he walked into his quarters from the office. He’d just gotten done coordinating the evacuation of the tunnels of their equipment and manpower. 

“In a few minutes perhaps. I might have to give her another dose first. I don’t hold out much hope though without an antidote.”

“Small mercy anyway,” Chellak sighed. “It’s a sight better than shooting you again.”

“You’re all heart,” Peri muttered. The General’s eyes flashed.

“Treating with the enemy is just as bad as gunrunning,” he snapped. “And Sharaz Jek went to great lengths to rescue you and your friends.” Salateen shifted uncomfortably on his feet, opening his mouth to counter that statement, but he was beaten to it by an indignantly angry Rose.

“Rescue huh?” She retorted. “Interesting. First time _I’ve _ever been rescued on threat of death by an Android at gunpoint. Jek couldn’t have cared less about the Doctor and I. He’s infatuated with Peri.”

“In a scary way,” Peri supplied with a shiver. “He gave me the creeps. I never want to go back there.” 

“Yes, well.” Chellak swallowed uncomfortably with the presentation of a harassment charge. “We’ll be moving above ground soon. I can dispatch someone to escort you to your ship.”

“Good,” Rose said with a nod, rubbing Peri’s shoulder comfortingly. “And then I’m going down to get the milk from the Queen Bat. Both Peri and the Doctor need it desperately.” Salateen winced as Chellak’s eyes widened in shock.

“You _are _joking,” he laughed. He sobered at her serious expression. “What I mean to say is that-“

“I’m just a kid, who doesn’t know what she’s getting into, who’s naive and unaware of the creatures lurking on the lower levels not to mention the Androids and smugglers standing between me and it?” Rose raised an eyebrow. “Take Salateen’s word for it, I’m bulletproof, and I’m a lot older than I look. I’ll be fine. Weakened, perhaps, by being so far underground, but...” here she trailed off as she eyed Peri worriedly. “Worth it.” 

~§§~

Somewhere along the way, in a mist-shrouded tunnel, the Doctor tripped over a loose stone. He grunted as he hit the ground, palms stinging in the gravel, and when he went to get up one of his legs buckled. He huffed as he hit the chalky ground again and then his brow furrowed thoughtfully, ignoring the smugglers for a few seconds as they told him to get up. He masked a smug smile of satisfaction by inquiring after the loud sound above that was shaking the stone of the tunnel.

“What’s that?” He asked, panting and playing up the image of being unwell. 

“My ship, right on time,” Stotz muttered shortly. “So hurry up.” The Doctor went to get up again and put a great deal of acting behind his efforts, making it appear that he couldn’t find the strength to get back on his feet.

“My legs are going numb,” he said shakily with a pant, marveling at his acting abilities in his current body. They’d been decent enough in his fourth and stupendous in his third, but he was ever so grateful they were on the naturally-talented end of the spectrum this go ‘round. He inflected some pitiful fear and actual, genuine pain into the next sentence. “I suppose that’s stage three.” 

“Stage three of what??” Stotz asked tiredly. 

“I believe it’s called Spectrox Toxaemia,” the Doctor murmured. He resisted the urge to glare at the man as Stotz laughed and went to crouch close beside him. 

“You been messing around with raw Spectrox?” He snickered. 

“Yes,” the Doctor whispered, gaze dropping resignedly to the floor. 

“Come on!” Stotz barked to his men. “Get him up!”

“Why don’t you leave me here to die?” The Doctor spat. 

“You’ll last long enough for questioning, that’s why. Krelper, take his arm. We’ll be at the ship in three minutes.” Stotz stood and walked briskly back to the head of the procession as the man named Krelper and another unknown individual picked him up under the shoulders and dragged his ‘numb legs’ behind them. He had to greatly bite back any exclamations of discomfort or pain when his feet and ankles caught on uneven stones, a difficult task considering he felt like his muscles had been covered in stinging nettles, but just manageable. 

When they got to the shuttle the Doctor was led to the bridge, where he was made stand against the back wall. They shortened the chains attached to his wrists to lessen the slack, making it easier for him to remain upright by leaning against the wall. He wasn’t fond of admitting that by now, the Toxaemia had worked its way enough through his formidable system that he was grateful for the pressure it took off of his aching legs. He could only partially feel his left foot now, though his legs and his right foot were fine, and idly he wondered how much time he’d have left before he was sick enough it forced him into a Regeneration.

He’d resigned himself to that as soon as mention of an unattainable antidote had been made, keeping himself from becoming panicked by keeping a running tally off all of his current incarnation’s perceived faults so that he could try and correct them in the next one.

For a start, his physical inability to be of any use in any type of altercation was downright embarrassing. He’d been knocked down and punched, kicked, far too often and it had to stop. He was far too expressive of his emotions. This wasn’t something he could fix, as it was in his personality to be terrible at concealing his reaction to anything, but a tweak to his personality on the next run would be a good idea. His voice was soft, his mannerisms more delicate, and he’d skewed too young this time around. No one ever took him seriously, and it really was quite annoying. 

Rose would think it macabre, to identify all of the things he hated about himself as he was dying. Truth was, it helped him to ignore the ‘dying’ bit and, he found, it was the only way he was able to cope with the idea of some new bloke sauntering away with all of his memories. Looking forward to making improvements was the only we he could resign himself to it.

...Still. He’d had a good run, in this body. Things good and bad alike - more bad than good much of the time it seemed, especially in the early days - had happened to him. He’d met and had his hearts broken by four outstanding people. His naive innocence that the universe was generally a decent place with bad things lurking inside it had been destroyed with Adric’s needless death and the trauma the Mara and the Daleks had inflicted upon Tegan. She’d run from him in tears. As for Nyssa and Turlough, they had left after finding their place in things. He couldn’t be more proud, but he would and always would miss them terribly. As much as he missed Susan, or Ian and Barbara, or Vicki. Steven, Dodo, Ben, Polly, Victoria, Jamie, Zoe, Liz, Jo, Mike, John, Harry, Sarah... oh, Sarah. And Leela, and Romana (admittedly the second version far more over the first). Even his robot dog left him in the end. Peri would too, eventually. 

And Rose... 

The Doctor whimpered slightly at the very idea of her eventual departure, knowing it was sure to kill him all over again, and he sent a quick prayer to any deity that might be listening that he didn’t believe in that she would stay when his current form was gone. 

The engines thundered properly to life underneath the soles of his Zeds and he shook his head slightly to focus back on the matter at hand, which just so happened to be his imprisonment by a bunch of immoral gunrunners who took sadistic pleasure in the suffering of others. At present, they were running through last minute take-off checks and ignoring him entirely. The Doctor flexed his hands and winced as the cuffs of the chains dug into the blistered skin of his right one, noting with unease that the very slight blistering on his left had turned to full-fledged hives inching their way up his arm underneath the material of his Oxford shirt. 

One by one the insubordinates left the bridge, leaving him alone with Stotz. The man lazily stood from his seat and grabbed up a piece of black cloth, walking over to his prisoner. 

“You afraid of intruders?” The Doctor tiredly as Stotz raised the cloth and made it clear he was holding a blindfold.

“When I talk to the boss,” Stotz explained as he draped the material over the Doctor’s eyes causing everything to go black, “It’s got to be just the two of us. That’s the way he likes it.”

“Something wrong with his face, or mine?” There was the sound of receding footsteps and then the sound of something heavy sinking into something soft. The Doctor assumed his captor had sat back in the captain’s seat and continued listening, sound sensitivity strained to its most delicate, as he picked up the flicking of switches and the chirp as a communications link turned on. The voice that came over the line was also terribly familiar, too.

_“You’re late, Stotz.” _

“We ran into some trouble, sir,” Stotz’ voice replied evenly. “The army intercepted a consignment.”

_“I know that, but the weapons were untraceable.”_

“I made doubly sure. Anyway, we attacked them and wiped them out. But then we had trouble with Sharaz Jek.”

_“He refused payment, I suppose.” _Stotz laughed in response. It was a rather unpleasant laugh, the Doctor thought. Just like the man it originated from.

“Two kilos instead of five.” 

_“It should have been four, at least.”_

“I forced him to agree to more for the next delivery, sir. He’s desperate for those gas weapons.” The sound of creaking fabric and springs. Stotz has probably leaned backwards in his chair. “So, I said eight kilos or no deal.” 

_“Eight?” _The familiar voice asked, sounding disbelieving. _“And did he agree?” _

“Oh, of course,” Stotz replied unconcernedly. “He could see I meant business.” The sound of something hitting something else, plus slight vibrations through the floor that the Doctor could feel through the soles of his cricketing trainers. Maybe he’d had a leg up or something and dropped it, switching from blasé to serious. “And another thing. I think I’ve got a fix on where that Spextrox is stored.

_“Ah,” _the other voice murmured, obviously pleased. _“That could be very valuab- who is that?” _The tone changed, turning sharp. The seat creaked again as Stotz stood, his footsteps vibrating closer and closer to where the Doctor was standing. They were taking about him, then.

“Government snoop, sir.”

_“Take off the blindfold.” _

“I thought I recognized the voice,” the Doctor replied with a soft smirk as Stotz let the horrid cloth drop to hang limply about the base of his neck. Up on the screen, looking very put off by everything, was Trau Morgus.

_“Something is happening I don’t quite understand,”_ Morgus murmured.

_Welcome to my life,_ the Doctor thought sarcastically. 

“He calls himself the Doctor sir,” Stotz put in helpfully. Morgus’ eyes flashed with bad temper.

_“I know that, Stotz! Be quiet,” _he snapped. _“I need time to think.” _Morgus turned away from the screen and muttered to himself, though neither one on the other end of the call could distinguish what he was saying. He turned back a few moments later, that flash of anger settling deep into his expression. _“Who’s your employer, Doctor? Who are you working for?” _

“I’m not working for anyone,” the Doctor protested, keeping his tone even and failing miserably. “I was just passing through, and my companions and I happened to get rather unwillingly mixed up in this _pathetic _little local war-“

_“I am the richest man in the five planets. You tell me the truth and I will reward you beyond your wildest dreams.”_

“I am telling the truth,” the Doctor snapped, his patience finally breaking into a thousand pieces. Sue, him, he was dying. He was entitled to put all of his frustration over never being taken seriously into these last moments. “I _keep _telling the truth! Why is it no one ever believes me??” 

“He’s a government snoop sir,” Stotz said, immediately proving his point. “Stick a few electrodes in him, he’ll soon talk.”

_“If he’d been sent by the government, I’d know,” _Morgus countered, equal parts thoughtful and exaggerated. _“My people on the Praesidium would have told me. No, someone in a very high position told Chellak to fake the execution.” _

“How’d you know it was faked?” The Doctor asked, realizing after a few moments that he was imitating one of Rose’s cheeky smirks. Not the one with her tongue between her teeth, but the one where she bared them just enough you could see her canines. “Maybe they were just bad shots.” Morgus muttered something to himself again before seeming to come to a decision. 

_“Stotz, I want you to lock your ship in geostationary orbit. And I don’t want you back here until I’ve had time to consider the implications of this.” _The call clicked off, and Stotz turned to wrap his hand around the Doctor’s throat as he pressed him hard against the wall. 

“Geostationary orbit!” He snapped, tearing the blindfold off of his neck and leaving a fabric burn in the process. “If it wasn’t for you, we’d be well on our way home! I should have wiped you out the moment I first saw you!” 

The Doctor let out a shaky breath as Stotz stormed out of the door and it closed behind him, setting to work instantly the moment he was left alone on getting out of the cuffs. 

“It’s always my fault, isn’t it?” He muttered sourly as he worked. “Never anyone else’s. Thank you, Stotz. I didn’t want to come along on this little trip to begin with, but by all means blame me. Everyone else does.” He took on a mocking, childish tone as he pulled at the restraints and heard one of the fastenings give way, dropping with a metallic clang to the deck floor. “Oh, but it was Theta’s idea. No, Professor Borusa, it was Theta who set the drapes on fire, not me!” The Doctor scoffed. “As if, Koschei. As if. For one thing, they were _your _matches. For another, I was actually studying in my room. 

“...for once. Ah!” The second fastening gave way and he grinned that mania-touched signature smile of his. “Houdini old chap, you’ve saved me again.” His smile faded as he took in the door. The door that lacked a locking mechanism. “Mm...” 

~§§~

Rose ignored the last-minute preparations of the soldiers as she watched a burly Corporal scoop Peri up into his arms. She was barely lucid anymore, despite the medication she’d been given, and her fever had climbed exponentially. A quick glance was spared for the open door of the General’s office, where Salateen and Chellak were giving instructions to the other high-ranking men in the expedition force.

“What’s your name?” Rose asked curiously as she followed the Corporal up a winding path. 

“Corporal Vetchee, ma’am,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Rose. You can call me Rose.” She bit her lip as she fingered the key around her neck. “Thanks for helping me with her.”

“To be honest, I wasn’t too keen on the firing squad to begin with,” Vetchee admitted sheepishly. “I refused to serve on the squad, took the scout duty instead. More dangerous, but preserved my moral principles, so...” He gave a slight shrug. “General Chellak certainly wasn’t going to complain about having a volunteer for scout work.” 

Rose nodded, holding back a pant as she moved closer and closer toward the surface. Her bone-deep weariness was fading the closer she got to the open sky and each step after the next was easier than the one preceding it. 

They finally moved out of the tunnels through one of the blowholes and she heaved a sigh of relief as the stars of deep evening soaked into her skin, energizing her in ways she’d never felt anything else do before. Beside her, Vetchee let out a startled yelp and nearly dropped Peri’s now-unconscious form in his shock. 

“You- your hair is um, is shimmering,” he stuttered. Rose frowned, pulling at the long strands and then shrugging when she realized he was right. Humming, she pulled off the Doctor’s coat and her hoodie so that the bare arms of her white sleeveless top allowed her to soak up more of the silvery light and spread said arms with a happy hum before sniffing the air and walking decisively toward the spot where they’d parked the TARDIS, Vetchee following uncertainly behind. She hummed as she got to the aged wood doors and inserted the key into the lock, opening the door and stepping inside. Behind her, she heard a gasp.

“It’s- it’s bigger on- than on the-“

“Yep,” Rose said cheerfully as she flicked the lever for the door and then walked toward the door leading to the rest of the ship. “Come on. We need to get her to the infirmary.” Vetchee swallowed, looking like he might be sick, but followed. 

Once they’d got to the infirmary Rose had him lay Peri on one of the cots and then she instigated the full body scanner after pulling off the Doctor’s jumper. She laid both his coat and jumper with her hoodie on a counter and got to work, frowning over the results that showed up on the screen.

“Not good,” she muttered, moving to a different machine. When it didn’t give the results she was looking for either she heaved a big sigh and slumped into a chair, rubbing her face. When she finally glanced up at her houseguest her expression was resigned. “Suffice it to say, there isn’t a cure aside from the antidote. And, the longer she goes without having been given it, the more she’ll need for the cure to work.” At that, Rose stood and pressed a few buttons on the side of the infirmary bed. A glass shell rose out of the side and arced to curve over Peri’s form, the glass turning opaque with a light blue glow about it.

“What’s that?” Vetchee asked hesitantly. 

“A cryostasis chamber,” she explained distractedly. “It’ll stop her vital functions and - well, everything - until I can retrieve the antidote. This way, even if it takes months, we won’t lose her.” 

“Didn’t know technology like that was a thing,” he murmured in a small voice. 

“Not until the 38th century. They did some experiments in the 32nd, but... let’s just say those were popsicles that you don’t want to see thawed out and leave it at that.” Rose nodded to herself. “Now, to get the Doctor and then go and find that antidote.” 

~§§~

The Doctor hadn’t been having much luck with furthering his nebulous escape plans. The door wasn’t lockable (at least it didn’t look it), his wrists were still chained together behind his back even if he was free of the wall, and there wasn’t much of anything useful on the bridge that he could get his hands on when they were still tied behind his back. Unless... 

He eyed an encased power cell on the back of the captain’s chair and smirked at the softly glowing white-blue light. Those things burned hot, hot enough to melt metal. He just needed to find the release switch that would open the canister and expose the power rod. It was a bulky, dull silver box mounted nearby and after a few failed attempts to press it with straining fingers he lifted his leg and brought his heel crashing down on it. The transparent tube slid down into a holding basin with a soft whir and the rod hummed with high energy. 

Overzealously, the Doctor immediately brought the chain binding his wrists up and badly burned the palm of one of his hands for his carelessness. He stifled a yelp and made a second, far more cautious attempt, sighing in relief when the restraints snapped apart and he was able to move his hands back in front of him. With a grimace he examined the Spectrox blisters and then tutted at the burn. With this being accomplished, he inspected the door more closely and smiled when he spotted an emergency siege lock. Not only would this lock down the bridge, it would lock down the entire ship. 

Pressing it, he slumped down into the captain’s chair and rubbed absently at one of his legs to wake it up again after it had started falling asleep. 

“First thing first,” he panted, suddenly finding it hard to breathe and cursing a quick internal body scan when he realized the Spectrox had given up on his spinal nervous system and had been attacking other areas that were less well-defended. Should have known better than to assume that it would affect him the same as a human being, really... “Auto hold... off.”

There were many, many unfamiliar buttons and switches and levers. The Doctor had half a mind to try them all, but despite being resigned to Regeneration he wasn’t suicidal. He took the time to figure out what was most likely what before pressing it, the auto hold included, and when he hit the right one he managed a weak smile. 

“That’s it, now. Vertical descent pattern... Ah! Not that one... mm. This one.” The ship smoothly changed direction and he stood on shaky legs to examine the cuffs still remaining on his wrists. There were two options, really. He could take his chances and risk amputating his hands, or...

“I think I’m going to leave these for Rose to tear off later,” he muttered, eyeing the burn on his palm as a warning and deciding to take it. They were an inconvenience, to be sure, but definitely not a hindrance. The Doctor blinked as his vision blurred, odd wavy lines materializing in his ocular field, and with a shaky breath he collapsed more than sat in the chair to watch the screen as they moved back to Androzani Minor. 

“Doctor!” Banging on the door ensued and the Doctor shook his head, trying to clear it, and sighing softly when he only succeeded in getting rid of the lines but not the blur. “What are you doing in there!?”

“Ah, Stotzy!” The Doctor replied, voice sounding uncharacteristically tremulous even - he was sure - to the ears of a man who barely knew him. “Had a good rest?” 

“Doctor, open this door!” Stotz shouted through the bulkhead. 

“Ah...” he took as deep a breath as he was able and summoned some eternal chipped attitude for a Trademark Cheeky Reply. “Sorry! Seems to be locked!” 

“Krelper, go and get the cutting gear. Now, listen Doctor. Be reasonable. This won’t do you any good-“

“Stotzy, I feel I should warn you,” the Doctor replied tersely, scrambling with numb fingers to get his seatbelt attached properly. “We’ll be landing in a couple minutes. Or rather, crashing down you see. I’m a bit-“ he winced at the squeaky crack in his voice and swallowed. “Out of practice with manual landings, you see. So, if I were you, _I’d find something firm to hang on to!_” 

“I’ll murder you when I get in there, Doctor!” He shook his head as the wavy lines returned and took deep breaths to allay panic when they didn’t go away. The sound of someone cutting through the door made him wince and increase speed, the view of the planet rushing up to meet them oddly welcoming rather than terrifying. 

The metal bulkhead of the door flew into the bridge as Stotz aimed around the door with a heavy blaster. 

“Doctor- Ah! All right, snoop! Hands in the air!” He barked.

“Why?” 

“Because I’ll kill ya if you don’t!”

“Not a very persuasive argument actually, Stotz, because I’m going to die soon anyway!” The Doctor pointed out. “Unless, of course-“

“I give you to the count of three!”

“Unless of course I can find the antidote!”

“One-“

“I owe it to my friend because I got her into this! So, you see-“

“Two!”

“I’m not going to let you stop me now!”

“Three!” 

The Doctor closed his eyes tight, body tensing, as he waited for either the bullet or the impact of the ship crashing into the surface of the planet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted Rose on the ship, but realized it wouldn’t have worked out as she didn’t have Spectrox. Additionally, I was under the opinion the use of Salateen’s Android in the episode was pointless and needlessly dangerous when the real Salateen must have got a good look at all of Jek’s data. They don’t need to come in the way Jek expects, so why bother?
> 
> (I also really wanted Rose to have That Moment™️ because she’s so tired of people not taking her seriously).


	16. The Caves of Androzani IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brace yourselves. The end of this chapter gets pretty heavy emotionally.
> 
> WARNING: Conversation about past self-harm and attempted suicide at end of chapter. Definitely Hurt/Comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the chapter count doesn’t really make this obvious, but we are 1/4 of the way done with this story. 
> 
> Part 4 of 4

For once, things went to plan. The rocket thrusters fired on high moments before they crashed into the ground at just the right moment, roughly throwing the Doctor back into his seat. He took an emergency escape through the exterior maintenance hatch, stumbling on unsteady legs and crashing to the floor on more than one occasion. The entire complement of smugglers were after him firing their guns and he had no problem throwing himself over the crest of a sandy hill to roll to the bottom of what appeared to be an old riverbed. 

The shouting of the smugglers echoed around him, but he kept running toward the caves. Even if he couldn’t find his companions, there’d be plenty of places to hide unlike the open expanse of the outdoors. Unfortunately, his legs had decided to cooperate with ten degrees of noodle, feeling rather as if they belonged to someone else and not working well on the uneven, chalky terrain. He slipped and slid more than he sprinted, struggling to breathe evenly and maintain a distance from his captors. He had just managed to climb over a particularly barring outcropping when the soft earthy material gave way and he fell head of heels down a steep incline, pain wracking his entire body as he did so. He screamed, fairly certain something was broken but unable to do a self-analysis due to the Toxaemia, and when he slid to a halt at the bottom of the hill he lay in the dirt winded. 

“It’s over, Doctor!” Krelper called. There was the unmistakeable noise of several guns clicking as their rounds loaded and then- 

Explosions from deep in the earth rocked the surface as tall geysers of scalding mud exploded over the sandy plain the Doctor was laying on, and with a soft yelp of alarm he scrambled back to his feet and forced himself across the plain toward a safer area (preferably one that wasn’t a geyser field). The ground trembled beneath his feet and he shuddered with it in horror.

“Not enough time,” he whispered, staring at the mouth of the cave ahead of him as visions of tunnels flooding with steaming rivers of mud flitted through his mind’s eye. Taking a deep breath, he ran on anyway. Rose and Peri were in there. 

~§§~

Rose had felt the vibrations as she’d stepped outside the TARDIS, looking to Vetchee in alarm. The man appeared terrified and without giving her a second glance he ran toward the rest of the troops. Rose chased after him, easily overtaking him. 

At the camp, the men were hurriedly picking up their materials and moving them to higher ground.

“General, what’s going on?” Rose shouted. Chellak paused in barking out hurried orders to glance at her, then motioned to Salateen before going back to what he was doing. Salateen came over to her with a slight pant. “Sal, what’s wrong?”

“The tidal season is upon us,” he explained. “It’s lucky we moved out of the tunnels when we did. The entire system is going to be flooded. If the heat doesn’t kill you, the fumes from the liquid mineral will.”

“The Doctor’s still down there,” she protested. “And we need the antidote.” He opened his mouth and she glared at him. “Don’t try to stop me, Sal. I need to do this.”

“Then- then good luck,” Salateen said regretfully. “I hope you succeed.” 

“Yeah, me too.” Rose paused. “And while I’m down there, I think I’ll take care of your little Android problem.”

“...What species did you say you were, again?” He asked, eyes wide. 

“I didn’t,” she threw over her shoulder. “Get your men to safety, Major! I’ll handle the rest!” 

When she was out of sight of the men she broke into a run, shifting form as she went, and her paws all but flew over the sandy ground. She was in the cave system in seconds, bracing herself against the feeling of weakness as she went deeper and deeper. Adrenaline and fear were coursing through her body in equal amount to desperation, and it gave her the strength needed to press on. 

Android after Android that she encountered was torn to pieces, the wiring irreparable. It was a matter of time, a matter of a ticking bomb. The longer she waited, the less chance she’d have at getting into the truly deep tunnels to find the antidote. The more mud that flowed the higher the levels would rise. It would dissipate, of course, but- 

Rose yelped as one of the Androids opened fire, the bullets tearing into her flank. She spun and buried her fangs into its leg, huffing in satisfaction as the metal and wires crunched beneath her teeth and the thing went down. She really hated robots. Soulless, impersonal things. Not at all like _Star Trek _or _Star Wars _had painted them out to be, but she supposed that was also a plus; it was just a machine firing at her, and a machine could be dismantled. 

The mud was making quick work of the Androids as well as she was. They’d been sent out, all of them it appeared, to confront the attack from the army that never came, and the scalding material was melting their casings and fusing their computer compartments. 

A wave of mud burst through a wall and she screamed as she was swept off in the tide, the sticky goo burning well past her fur and into her flesh. It carried her swiftly away, downward as gravity bade once the upward pressure had ceased, and blinking furiously Rose thought she saw the Doctor clinging to a wall of the cave just above the cascade as she was swept past. Then she fell down an unexpected hole, hit her head, and blacked out for a few minutes. 

~§§~

“Jek!” The Doctor shouted, bursting through the door of the man’s secret base. “Where are they? Where are Rose and Peri?” 

“Gone, Doctor,” Jek said miserably from where he was sitting hunched on the floor. “They met up with the military hours ago, and then Chellak moved his forces out of the tunnels. They’ve been on the surface for ages.” He sighed, knocking his masked head against the base of a control console that housed the map on it. “My Androids are gone. See? I moved them into the tunnels... I- I thought the military- I thought Salateen would lead them down to... but they didn’t come. The mud... I have none left.” 

“How terribly worrisome for you,” the Doctor said apathetically, leaning heavily against the wall and eyeing his once-captor with annoyance. “If you don’t mind, I’d simply _love it _if you’d show me how to get to the milk of the queen bat.”

“And why should I?” Jek retorted, some of the fire returning to his broken voice. 

“Because Peri has Spectrox Toxaemia.” _That _got the man’s attention. He had scrambled to his feet in moments and started to pace.

“Do you hear that?” He whispered, pointing at the ceiling. The Doctor nodded. “That’s a mud burst covering the base. To go down into the tunnels right now would be tantamount to suicide.”

“But-“

“If Peri is with the military they have medicines that will slow her condition,” Jek explained, cutting the Doctor off. “No,” he said decisively. “You must stay here until the cycle is lessened. Much as I hate for Peri to suffer, she will last until you can safely venture down. I do not wish to gamble her safety on the chance that you might not return.”

“Oh, very well,” the Doctor sighed, slumping against the rock wall and wincing as he rubbed at the blistering on his hands. 

It may have been minutes or it may have been hours, but the Doctor couldn’t tell. The Spectrox was getting to his time sense now, skewing perspective, and his legs were far too weak to be of any dependable use. But after a tortuous silence of indeterminable time, the door burst open as Stotz and none other than Trau Morgus himself walked in brandishing guns.

“Doctor, you have ruined me!” Morgus spat. “My fortune, my lands, my power, my position, all gone! All gone!”

“He wasn’t the one that killed the President and was stupid enough to let his assistant know about all his dirty dealings,” Stotz muttered with a barking laugh. “That was you, brought low by your own hubris.”

“Trau Morgus,” Jek spat, slowly standing and inching forward in a predatory manner. 

“Where’s the Spectrox?” Morgus growled, circling the other man slowly with weapon raised. 

“It no longer matters,” Jek snapped, lunging forward with a strangled war cry. Bullets went flying everywhere, Jek’s hands around Morgus’ throat, and the Doctor scrambled underneath a table to avoid the fallout. 

Stotz shot Jek several times in the torso, an act that was repaid by Jek firing blindly with Morgus’ gun and catching his assailant on the arm, and with Stotz temporarily indisposed Jek shoved Morgus’ head into an odd-looking machine. The machine turned on, the feeling of high energy beams zapping through the air, and after a few moments Morgus collapsed onto the table dead with his face burned past mutilation. 

The Doctor scrambled out from under the table as Jek sank to the floor himself, blood pooling thickly, and after a few seconds he breathed his last gargled breath. Not paying attention, the Doctor turned to find Stotz barring his exit to the door.

“Let me go, Stotz,” he panted. “Neither of your employers are alive anymore. You have no need to-“

“Oh but I do, Doctor,” Stotz snapped. “Or have you forgotten the damage you did to my ship?” The Doctor winced. 

“Ah.”

“Yes. Now, _spy,_ you know where Jek’s store of Spectrox is.” The gun clicked into a new round. “Show me.”

“I’m not a spy,” the Doctor protested weakly. “I never came here looking for Spectrox, I swear. There used to be a silica mine in these tunnels... I just wanted some silica...”

“There hasn’t been a silica mine for centuries,” Stotz scoffed. “If you wanted a believable story you should have learned to lie better.” He sighed. “If you won’t tell me where the Spectrox is, then I’ll just have to get you out of my way.”

“I don’t know where it is! I’m telling the truth!” 

“If it’s any consolation Doctor, I would have shot you after you’d shown it to me anyway.” 

The Doctor thought he heard something growling before a shot rang out and the world went black.

~§§~

When Rose awoke, it was to being buried under what felt like a mountain of blazing hot earthen deposit. Whining in frustration and crying at the pain covering all of her body, she set to work on digging her way out. Her paws sank deep into the mud as she worked, pushing strongly, until the top of her makeshift prison collapsed and she was able to breathe in the stale but noticeably dirt-free air of a tunnel. 

Hauling herself out and shaking her fur, Rose stumbled down the newly-formed hill and landed with a heavy thud on the chalky floor of the tunnel next to the immobile form of the ‘dragon’ from earlier. She whined softly as she sniffed at its dead corpse before trotting deeper into the caves, pace slowing and each step becoming more and more difficult as she got farther away from the surface.

Surprisingly, the total lack of oxygen didn’t bother her. Nor did the intense heat of the rapidly-thinning air from the thermal vents of the planet’s core. The path was steep, more suited to a humanoid form for climbing, and more than once she fell off an edge to land painfully some several feet below. But eventually she got to an area with several large, hibernating bats hanging from the ceiling. Not one to kill an innocent creature if she could help it, Rose sniffed desperately about. 

Many of the creatures were already dead, and those that weren’t were as yet off limits. But eventually she found one. The poor thing was still warm, still bursting with milk, and with tender jaws Rose pulled it from the ceiling and carefully clamped its large form in her mouth before dragging it back up the path. 

Even with mud clogging her nose, she’d know the smell of the Doctor anywhere. She dutifully followed it with mounting apprehension as the trail was joined by two unfamiliar scents, and finally Jek’s as she approached the base. Burned flesh, copious amounts of blood, and gun discharge assaulted her as she dropped the corpse of the bat on the floor and let out a soft growl just before Stotz fired at the Doctor. 

He was still falling to the floor even as Rose was ripping the gun from a smuggler’s startled hands and biting down hard on his arm; he cried out and clutched at it as she bared her teeth mere centimeters away from his wide, terrified eyes. 

_If you make it out of here alive_, she growled telepathically into his mind, _you will never again pick up a weapon. Am I understood?_

Mutely, the man nodded. Satisfied, Rose strode past him and sniffed over the Doctor. He moaned slightly in pain, but the wound didn’t look too deep. It wasn’t in a good spot either, but Rose knew from experience that Time Lords had a rather odd nervous system compared to that of humans - not to mention much more hypersensitive lending to insane reflexes - and being shot in the left shoulder happened to be the nerve cluster equivalent of striking someone’s funny bone several times over. She could only imagine what it must feel like getting shot there. No wonder he’d passed out. 

The next problem was more difficult, and even the thought of shifting back filled Rose with such agony as to be unbearable. She couldn’t carry both the bat corpse and the Doctor as a Wolf. But how... Ah.

_You’re going to extract all of the milk from this bat and then put it in a nice little bottle to tie around my neck, got it? _

The smuggler whimpered and, clutching at his arm, stood and did as asked. It took a few minutes, and during that time Rose refused to leave the Doctor’s side. The base was quickly catching fire, spreading everywhere. If this man had been looking for something, it would be burned by now. 

With thick smoke permeating the room, Rose slowly sank to the floor and shuffled herself underneath the Doctor until he was lying squarely on top of her back. Rising painfully to her paws, she cautiously trotted away hyper aware of any shifting movement in the balance of the person on her back. 

Every single step was torture; the mud had seared her skin layers deep and it was still raw, so where the Doctor was resting was excruciatingly painful, but with labored breaths she finally managed to stagger outside. Geyser fields were exploding left right and center and it took every conceivable effort she had to maintain her balance when the very ground was shifting beneath her paws. With slow but steady movements, she trudged up and down hills and through narrow valleys. At one point she passed by the soldiers climbing into their ship to escape to the safety of space and a trip home to Major, and several of the more surprised lot shot at her. She ignored this, knowing it wasn’t their fault, but winced all the same when she went down when a lucky shot caught one of her legs. 

Rose fell to the ground and the Doctor slid off her back with a fevered groan into the chalky, sandy soil beside her. She heard and felt running feet approaching, looking up to see Salateen coming to a pause. There was a moment of startled fear in his eyes before something seemed to shift, a cautious recognition taking the place of the instinctual terror, and they held each other’s gaze for a long while as a silent communication seemed to pass.

“Jek?” He asked finally. Rose just shook her head, struggling to stand. Salateen nodded, apparently satisfied. He turned back to the rest of the group and shouted. “Vetchee, do you you remember the way to the civilians’ ship?”

“Yessir!” 

“Well, get over here man! I need help!” Vetchee ran over and froze.

“My God,” he breathed, eyes widening as they landed on Rose. “What sort of creature is that?”

“Carry the Doctor, I’ve got her,” Salateen grunted, straining with the effort of hefting Rose into his arms and maintaining support with his slight form. Vetchee had far less trouble with carrying the Doctor despite his heavier weight being male. Together, the pair walked the rest of the distance to the TARDIS. The doors remained shut. 

_Help us! _Rose begged, screaming in her mind. Moments later she felt warm concern from a not-quite compatible telepathic presence soothe her as both doors sprung wide open, and leading the way Vetchee retraced the path to the infirmary. The TARDIS had been kind enough to set out another bed, which Vetchee laid the Doctor on and Salateen set Rose on the end of by the Doctor’s feet.

“Will you be okay on your own?” He asked worriedly. Rose nodded. The Major hesitated before scratching behind one of her ears. “Thank- thank you. You saved my life. And, if I’m not mistaken, the lives of every one of us. Take care.”

_You too._ Salateen startled at the sound of her voice in his head and quickly backed out of the infirmary, out of the ship, with Vetchee right behind him. The exterior doors closed firmly behind them. 

Rose whimpered as she stood from the bed and all but fell off of it, landing heavily and painfully on her side on the floor, and then trotted over to Peri’s cryostasis pod. She pressed her nose firmly to the disengage button and waited as her friend was re-warmed; with a gasp, Peri sat up abruptly when the thin bubble slid back into the side of the bed. She coughed and then looked wildly around the room before her eyes settled with horror upon the Doctor’s dirty, blood-stained body lying unconscious on the bed beside hers. Her voice trembled as she looked at Rose, mud-caked Wolf that she was. 

“What’d I miss?” She whispered hoarsely. 

_I’ll explain later, _Rose told her telepathically. _There are five or six vials hanging from my neck. It’s the antidote to the Toxaemia. You need to drink one, then give another to the Doctor. If you can, please patch up his shoulder. _

“H-how do I-“

_Activate the full body scanner after pulling the bullet from his shoulder. I... Peri, I’d do it myself but this mud wasn’t cold when I got covered in it, and honestly everything hurts_. Her wide golden eyes were filled with pain_. Please. _

“Sure,” Peri breathed. She took a few moments to remove the makeshift collar from around Rose’s neck and drank one of the vials, immediately feeling better. “Wow. That- that stuff-“ she coughed. “Sure works quick.” Moving over to the Doctor’s bed, she carefully pried his mouth open and poured a second vial in before closing it. She sighed in relief when he reflexively swallowed; she wasn’t sure what she would have done otherwise. 

A metal pan and long tweezers with a metallic tip appeared on a table beside the bed and she hesitantly opened the Doctor’s shirt halfway, intending to only remove what clothing was necessary, and groaned when she saw that he had an undershirt on. Determined, Peri retrieved a pair of scissors and attacked both garments with efficient prejudice. When the wound was properly exposed she quite literally went digging around, near to crying as his body spasmed in response. He was so deeply unconscious from the shock the pain had earlier delivered to his system that he didn’t wake or cry out, but still. 

Rose jumped up with some difficulty onto the bed and promptly draped herself over his lower legs, trapping him in place, and with Peri practically sitting on his stomach she to stop him from moving she eventually managed to extract the bullet. That done, she started up the full body scanner and sat back with a sigh of exhausted triumph. 

_You can go to sleep now_, Rose told her. _I’ll explain everything in the morning. _

Trusting that Rose knew better than she did how to care for the Doctor, Peri left and let the machine do its work. 

~§§~

When the Doctor awoke it was to the wonderful feeling of his body being finally rid of all traces of Spectrox Toxaemia and the far less wonderful feeling of a fiery ache in his shoulder just where that pesky bundle of highly sensitive nerves was and a dull pain where two of his broken ribs acquired in his fall resided. He was suddenly aware that the full body scanner was working diligently on the upper half of his body and settled more comfortably into the infirmary bed to think, letting the soothing hum of his TARDIS calm him.

He’d been shot in Jek’s lair by Stotz and had blacked out, but someone had not only gotten him out of there and returned him to his ship but had also patched him up and given him an antidote. Which was only attainable in one place. 

Glancing idly around the room showed that Peri was nowhere to be seen, but a quick assurance from the TARDIS told him that she was asleep in her room letting good old-fashioned rest take care of the last of her problems were the antidote could not. There was a very heavy weight draped across his legs, and when the Doctor glanced over to see what it was his hearts stuttered in his chest. 

Rose was barely recognizable, covered in a thick layer of mostly-dried mud. Even though this was the case he could clearly see that little of her fur was left, and it made him sick to his stomach at the thought that the mud had fallen on her when it was still scalding hot. She appeared to be asleep, and little wonder, after the day she must have had. 

The body scanner was trying to prompt him back to sleep by pointedly altering his brainwaves, and knowing he was powerless to do anything against it the Doctor submitted. The sooner the machine was done working on his shoulder the sooner he could attend to Rose. 

When next he woke, the scanner was done. His shoulder was a tad bit stiff but no longer painful, and without glancing at them the Doctor could tell that his hands were once again blister free. Carefully, he pulled his legs out from underneath Rose’s sleeping form and slid off the bed, pleased to be walking around on strong and sturdy legs. He knelt on the ground in front of Rose’s face and he let out a soft sound of dismay when he saw that the skin of her nose was raw and red rather than its usual slightly damp and shiny black. 

The tiny noise was enough to wake her from her sleep, and when she blinked open bleary eyes he could spot the unguarded multitude of pain. 

“I need to pick you up now,” he whispered. She just blinked at him, a silent acknowledgement, and grunting with the effort of carrying her (she was the same weight whether she was humanoid or Wolf, and people were _heavy_) he took her over to the infirmary’s bathroom. Inside were a toilet, a sink with a long deep basin, an antiseptic shower or five, and one very large and very deep bathtub with stairs and a rail in it. 

The purpose of the bathtub was to let the user soak in healing water. This water was always tailor-made to the species at hand, and as the Doctor toed off his shoes and stepped down into the basin the tap turned on. There was a long, wide ledge along one side where the patient could sit, and he put Rose on it while he himself sat on the stairs. He knew how he must have looked, sitting in the bath in the tattered remains of an undershirt that rather looked as if someone had taken scissors to it and his grimy trousers, but all the same... 

Rose whimpered as the body temperature (to Rose) water filled the rub and covered her, making a considerable effort to hold her head up before finding a place for it on the higher elevation of his knee. They just sat that way for several minutes as the gentle jets slowly, rhythmically, peeled the mud from her body. 

Though the water was clouded by the dirt the Doctor still couldn’t suppress his sharp intake of breath when he saw her person. The skin had been entirely burnt away in several areas and the raw flesh beneath was openly weeping with blood and plasma, thus further clouding the water but tingeing it a decidedly horrible shade of brownish-pink. Even as he watched, the flesh was knitting itself back together aided as it was by the healing waters. Fresh, raw skin soon covered her body and turned decidedly healthy as the process wore on; after about forty-five minutes in this position soft downy honey gold fur began to sprout. 

It was at this point that Rose removed her head from his lap, took a deep breath, and then dropped it under the water’s surface where it remained for a scarily long time until the fur began to grow back there as well. 

After about two hours of being in the tub she stood, shaking out thick and - when she pointedly tilted her head for him to scratch behind her ears - silky fur and leaping onto the slick tile. The Doctor watched with an odd sense of amusement and concern as her claws scrambled uselessly to find purchase before she padded out into the main infirmary and then out into the halls. He followed after her at a decent pace, nodding when she disappeared into her room and ducking into his own for a quick rinse in the shower and a fresh change of clothes.

Feeling decidedly fresher and damp rather than wet, the Doctor moved silently out to wait in the library. As expected, a few minutes later Rose walked in with her damp blonde hair pulled into a dripping and messy bun on her head clad in her comfiest set of pajamas. He swallowed when he took in her appearance. 

She was pale, her skin poetically exaggerated as white as clean cotton, and there was a haunted look in her eyes that chilled him to his core. 

“Hey,” she whispered as she sank onto the other end of the couch from him. It took several moments of him swallowing before he found his voice.

“Rose, how many times have you been seriously injured on our adventures without telling me because you’d already healed before you had a chance to?” She shrugged, nibbling at a hangnail, and he knew he’d touched on a touchy subject. “Please. I need to know.” 

“A lot,” she admittedly quietly, not looking at him. “But I don’t regret any of it. If I can survive falling a few hundred feet after being caught in a scalding mudslide... if it means I can get enough of the antidote for both you and Peri...” she trailed off at his sharp, emotionally pained in-drawn breath. 

“I’m not worth that, Rose,” he told her, voice breaking. “I never have been, and I never will be.” She was suddenly unconscionably angry.

“It’s my life, and it’s my risk,” she snapped. At his startled expression she softened, but only insofar as she was no longer yelling at him. “If the roles had been reversed, it would have cost you a regeneration. You still would have taken it. But that’s the thing, Doctor. You die, even if you play it off as merely a change. You die, every time. I don’t. Which of us has less to lose than the other, huh?”

“Rose-“

“Because, one day, you won’t have any left to lose. I’ve got just the one, but it’s very hard for me to lose it.” He could only stare at her, horrified, as her eyes filled with tears. “Trust me, I’ve tried. A lot. I wasn’t- I wasn’t exactly... happy, when I found out I was what I was.” Her voice broke. “When I realized I could never go home. That my mum, my best mate, that I’d outlive them by a long shot and then some. And I’ve been alone for so, _so _long. Don’t _ever _presume to tell me not to risk my life when it means I can save what little friends I’ve got because I don’t break half as easily. If it’s okay for you to do that, it bloody well is for me too.”

“...Rose...”

“No, I’m not done. What happens, Doctor? What do you think happens to me, when you’re gone? It’s not even the not being able to get back to Earth bit. I don’t care about that. You’re the _only _person who even comes _remotely _close to matching my lifespan, and even you won’t live ten thousand years. Just- just leave off the self-sacrificing every once in a while yeah? Let someone else have a go.” 

“What did you mean, ‘you tried?’” The Doctor asked softly. Rose winced; despite being the shambles left over from an emotional wreck, she was still able to wince. 

“...I was really, _really _hoping you wouldn’t pick up on that little slip,” she muttered, sniffing and swiping at her nose. The Doctor stiffened in his seat. 

“I notice most everything, and the things I don’t you pick up,” he said slowly, voice low. She’d always considered that tone dangerous. It was his thinking voice. You could practically hear the cogs turning in his head as he pieced things together. “Rose, what did you do?” 

“Nothing.”

“Rose.” 

“I jumped in front of a bloody freight train!” She shouted, standing abruptly and pacing as angry tears streaked down her face. He remained frozen on the couch, watching her with wide, indecipherable eyes. “I injected so many drugs into my body I couldn’t remember which needle was which. What else do you want to hear, Doctor? I don’t drink anymore because I used to break into liquor stores when I was high on fifty different kinds of smokeable, inhaleable _crap _and try and get so drunk I poisoned myself to death. I jumped off cliffs. I cut myself. Nothing worked. 

“You wanna know what my wake up call was? I was dumped in a sanitarium somewhere in Bulgaria, and when they let me out five years later because I was proper sober and actively committed to it I found out my mum’d died while I was cut off from the world. So I went backpacking. I ran. I went wherever I could and tried to move on, tried to make new experiences, because I couldn’t get close to people anymore. You think you have attachment issues? You’re not the only one! I just-“ she choked on a sob and slowly sank to her knees in front of the fireplace, shuddering when a few moments later cricket jumper-clad arms wrapped around her and pulled her gently against a chest where two hearts were beating strongly in their natural rhythm. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured soothingly into her hair. He began gently rocking her back and forth. “I didn’t know. Worse, I never asked. You don’t have to talk about it. We don’t need to. It’s enough for me to know that it hurts, that you’re in pain, and that I need to be there for you instead of trying to protect you by pushing you away. All right?”

“...I want to talk about it,” she whispered, sniffling. 

“Yeah?” His voice was oh so gentle and kind, the warmth of the fire and the concerned maternal hum of the TARDIS were comforting, and the gentle rocking lulled her into a sense of peace and safety. 

“Yeah. Think- think it might be good. Healthy. And I also think it’ll hurt like Hell, but sometimes you’ve gotta rip off the band-aid, right?”

“...I’ve never had the misfortune of messing about with band-aids, but...” the Doctor sighed out a pained smile when she let out a soggy laugh and lightly kissed her hair. “There we go. At your own pace, Rose. And it doesn’t all have to happen right now.”

“Don’t think I’ll ever talk about it again if I don’t,” she mumbled, pulling slightly back. He nodded, blinking gratefully at the ceiling when two steaming mugs of tea mixed to their liking appeared on the coffee table. The TARDIS never made drinks for anyone unless it was an emergency. Apparently this qualified. “Aww. Thanks girl.” Rose took a sip of hers, sighed out a shuddering breath, and then snuggled tightly against the Doctor’s side so that she had an excuse not to see his face. She could talk about it, so long as... 

“I understand,” he whispered, gently pulling her to her feet and then guiding them both onto the sofa, where he pulled a blanket over her and then preceded to listen quietly and without comment as she talked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much of the content in the episode (half, actually) pertains to a fight between Chellak and Salateen’s forces against Jek’s Androids, which I found unnecessary in the original content as literally every single one of them died, and in my story was no longer needed nor plausible due to some jimmying of the story in previous chapters. 
> 
> The part about the nervous system and nerve cluster thing: I read somewhere, multiple times and in multiple places, that there is a bundle of nerves in the left shoulder in a Gallifreyan that is highly, highly sensitive. I can’t remember where, and to be honest it may be the right shoulder. Just know that, due to canonicity issues being abundant in the Doctor Who universe both in show, in EU, and otherwise, I will only be using confirmed show physiology as an editable foundation source for information (and even that will have its issues). Any speculation otherwise I will be picking and choosing from the EU (just as much as the EU itself does, to be quite honest), and I may make up some plausible theories about physiology on my own. I wanted to let that be known before I go further on so no one gets miffed. 
> 
> Aside from the show-confirmed physiology being two hearts, a respiratory bypass, superior senses (and far more of them), temporal senses, and general speed, endurance, and durability, I will also be using the gold standard EU physiology as follows:  
1\. The birthing of Gallifreyans from looms rather than through the natural means of procreation (including the lack of a belly button which only further serves to make the Doctor an oddity among his people).  
2\. Five lobes of the brain to a human’s two, as well as the three brain stems.  
3\. General additional regeneration rules as established in Big Finish.  
4\. The ability to see in ultraviolet and infrared.  
5\. The much-expanded telepathic nature of Gallifreyans not truly seen all that much used or expressed until the Tenth Doctor Era.  
6\. The general nature of TARDISes acting more life-like than was ever seen in the show until the Eleventh Doctor Era and the connection pilots form with their ships.  
If there are other “gold standard” EU content I missed please tell me so I can factor it in. 
> 
> As a self-proclaimed long time fan I can truthfully admit the canon in this show is a mess, and trying to sort through all of it gives one more headaches than being struck on the skull with a hammer, but I’ll do my best to keep things comprehensible.
> 
> For those of you who are unaware, this was the story where the Fifth Doctor Regenerated into the Sixth. Truly spectacular performance on Peter Davison’s part, wonderful plot. I almost feel bad altering this, but my desire to let Five live far surpasses that reluctance. 
> 
> Next Up: An Interlude, followed by The Monsters of Gokroth


	17. Interlude: Smitten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I loved you before I even knew the name for it. Every day I’d sit beside you, inhaling your scent, looking at your beautiful face. Every night, dreaming about you. You eclipsed everything else. It was you. Always you.”
> 
> -Heather Anastasiu 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured I’d post this tonight after the somewhat depressing ending of the last chapter.

It didn’t happen like she had once thought something like this would. Three weeks after her breakdown in the library, a week after they made it up to Peri by taking her to see nebulas being born, the Hanging Gardens of Nineveh (after explaining to the poor woman that Babylon wasn’t the true mastermind, leaving her Botany Major brain somewhat traumatized), and of course a wonderful spa resort because she had knots upon knots in her shoulders from the stress. A week after they’d dropped her back at uni because her weekend holiday was over. 

The morning had started with him walking - strutting smugly more like - into the galley and proudly dropping a brand new Sonic Screwdriver onto the table in front of her, eagerly answering all of her questions about it over a slice of toast and a cup of tea and in general acting like an excited little kid who’d won first place in the science fair. The thing was silver with a bronze stripe on its lower base, a silver hoop at the top with a red bullet-shaped piece in its center. He was oh so smug and happy about it. 

‘Look Rose, look what I made!’ had been the general mood, him bouncing around like an excited puppy, and he’d pretended to pout when she’d patted him on the head as if he actually _were _an excited puppy though the impression was lost by the sparkle in his bright blue eyes. 

It didn’t happen then, oddly enough, though he had been plenty endearing and adorable (though she would never tell him that to his face lest he become mock-offended). 

No, it happened when they were on their way to a concert in Manchester in the 1990s and they’d passed by the garden of this dear little old lady having satellite trouble. 

It had happened after he climbed up the ladder onto her roof and used his new sonic to fix the dish, then promptly fell off the shingles.

Into the shrubs.

It happened because he’d fallen into a rather large shrubbery row of rosemary and he’d started sneezing like crazy, complaining that this was the first incarnation he’d had where he’d had allergies to the indigenous flora of a planet not Gallifrey. And he’d sneezed the entire time he’d complained. 

It was strange, really, that they could break down and cry and hold one another, and fall asleep on the couch together under a blanket in front of the fire after spilling their past traumas, and laugh and tease and joke at breakfast, and none of that made her realize. 

It was his bloody adorable sneeze when he’d landed in some shrubs in Manchester, of all places, that he happened to be allergic to and was embarrassed about being allergic to. It was the sheepish smile he’d had when he’d had to borrow the woman’s handkerchief because his was in the wash. It was the way he’d automatically reached for her hand afterward; habitual, expected, truly normal and not having a reason to suspect she might refuse to give it to him. They held hands all the time. But this was the first time she realized just how close they walked, noticed the whispers and soft knowing smiles people threw their way as they passed by that she’d previously been oblivious to.

It was that one untied shoelace on his right foot that she’d tripped on because she’d been staring at their hands that sent them sprawling in the gravel and laughing, the way he jumped to his feet and bounced from heel to toe as he dusted himself off. It was the way he kept leaning over to whisper to her during the concert once they’d finally got there, telling her all about the production and the band until someone told him to shut up and he’d merely wagged his eyebrows at her mischievously before ignoring the person and kept telling her all the tiny details. 

But in the end it all came down to those stupid rosemary bushes and the resulting sneezefest they’d elicited. 

What was ‘it,’ exactly?

...Well, it as love. Or rather, the realization of a love she’d harbored for so long that she couldn’t truly pinpoint the moment she’d fallen for him, merely the moment she realized she had. Loving the Doctor was a natural and wonderful as breathing to Rose, and oddly this didn’t make things awkward between them. 

Maybe, if she’d been younger. If they didn’t know each other so well as to be able to pinpoint the exact amount of sleep (or lack thereof) the other had got by the way their feet dragged in the entry of the galley the next morning on the way to the teakettle. Maybe if being the best of friends wasn’t even more deeply ingrained. Maybe. Maybe, if she had had a shorter lifespan and a limited time to tell him how much she truly, deeply, loved him, it would have been awkward. 

But the morning after the satellite dish incident, she made omelets and he sneezed and she laughed as she pulled the one filled with rosemary over and dumped it in the bin before grabbing the real, rosemary-less one from the warmer on the counter and set it in front of him. He’d sniffed it suspiciously, nodding approvingly when it turned out to be safe, and only then did he eat it. 

Rose was in love with the Doctor, and he didn’t notice. Nor did he seem to reciprocate it. Not in the romantic way, anyway. There were a million ways that he showed how much he loved her platonically. 

Thing was, it didn’t bother her. If the chance arose for their relationship to be something more, something that allowed her to snog him into the ground when he put his half-moon specs on to look at something close up even though he didn’t need them (and she’d only just realized she found insanely attractive on him)... well, she’d jump at it. But she was over two hundred years old, and just being able to be loved by someone even if it was platonic? Someone who wouldn’t leave her, or die after a very short time? Someone who understood what it was like to be like her? 

It was the best feeling in the universe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone’s curious about the Rosemary, I headcanon this purely due to a line of dialogue in ‘Castrovalva’ after he’s just regenerated where he drinks a restorative tonic, identifies what’s in it, sneezes, and then adds that it has rosemary. Whether this is considered legitimate or not is irrelevant. I think it’s hilarious.
> 
> The first interlude! And yes, they will all be this short if not shorter. They're not supposed to be long, just tiny little slices of life that are extra special. 
> 
> As a reminder, the next story arc is ‘Monsters of Gokroth’ from Big Finish.


	18. The Monsters of Gokroth I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Because if I fell any deeper for the way his eyes crinkled with his smile or his habit of tapping on his nose to emphasize a point, my ship would be sunk.”
> 
> -Katherine McIntyre, ‘By the Sea’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of 4
> 
> So... something I’ve been meaning to do for ages but never got around to. A size comparison between Rose as a Wolf and Humanoids (mostly the Doctor). So, here ya go. I finally did it. Thought it was especially important for this story. Please check this out BEFORE reading the chapter as it is vital for proper visualization:  
https://ask-the-almighty-google.tumblr.com/post/613444536447991808/something-ive-only-just-now-realized-i-should
> 
> This link goes to reference art I made of the Fifth Doctor:  
https://ask-the-almighty-google.tumblr.com/post/613624103328497664/first-and-foremost-these-poses-were-used-from
> 
> And finally, this link goes to reference art I made of Rose (specifically for this story) complete with what she looks like as a Wolf:  
https://ask-the-almighty-google.tumblr.com/post/613624279808000000/first-and-foremost-these-poses-were-used-from
> 
> To those of you who have listened to this Big Finish story, you will find that I have broken it down to its basest functions and then proceeded to practically recreate it from scratch. I hope you like what I’ve done with it, because I really enjoyed writing it and the direction I took. The original is amazing, truly amazing, but I like this version too.
> 
> To those of you who have not heard this story, it is a Seventh Doctor story that begins a trilogy featuring Mags as a brief Companion. It is not available on Spotify, and unfortunately costs $12.99 on the Big Finish website, but I really do love the Mags Trilogy (I plan on using another story from that arc which is in my opinion better than this one) and encourage Seventh Doctor lovers to give it a listen; as an additional carrot, Ace shows up in the third part of the trilogy. 

“Ow...” Rose groaned, rolling over onto her side and clutching her knees to her chest, displacing the pillows on the couch and scattering them thusly over the floor of the library. 

“Heating pad not helping?” The Doctor asked sympathetically, eyes flicking to the apparently offending item lying on the floor as he came in to drop a hot cup of tea on the coffee table before sitting in a nearby armchair. He was hovering, as he usually did when his companions were in pain and he could do absolutely nothing about it, but for once Rose seemed to not have enough energy to tell him off for it. 

“Nooooo,” she sighed dramatically, drawing out the vowel as she flopped her head back on the armrest. 

“...Ah.” His brow furrowed slightly in thought as he looked at her, and he leaned forward with his elbows perched against his knees to rest his chin on his clasped hands. “Forgive my asking this, but my curiosity always _did _get the best of me... I haven’t, ah, been aware of any previous... ahem... menstrual cycles whilst we’ve traveled together, and I can usually tell when it comes to the ah... female members of the human species. Olfactory recognition of- well, I smell the blood. Ahem. As you’re entirely human aside from a slight, quote unquote ‘genetic anomaly,’ I remain more than a bit surprised that you haven’t had one until now.”

“I...” Rose bit her lip, thinking. “How long have I been like this? I’d count, but the pain kinda makes everything all blend together...”

“About... a day, day and a half. Why?” 

“I don’t have a menstrual cycle.”

“Then what-“

“It’s a seventy-five year estrous cycle.” His eyes blew wide as he abruptly leaned back in his seat and awkwardly ruffled the hair at the back of his head while she all but squirmed with embarrassment on the couch, refusing to look at him. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Right then. So you...”

“Big dump of pheromones, probably late this evening or something. If there were any male Wolves around they’d sense I was unmated and- well- I might have to borrow your cricket bat.” They both grimaced at the implication. 

“Hang on, but if you were- what is the word, ‘Turned?’ ‘Changed?’”

“Bitten.”

“If you were Bitten at the age of twenty, and you’re only a little over two hundred, the cycle doesn’t match up,” the Doctor pointed out. Rose fixed him with a soft smirk and shook her head, causing his brow to furrow further. 

“You assume my cycle started the moment I was bitten, but it takes some time for a Wolf to settle into their pelt. The first time I shifted, that was when the cycle started. And I was fifty-three. It can take years for a Wolf to shift for the first time, usually because of high danger or some other such thing. Triggers the instincts. Wolf comes out in self-preservation.” Her eyes skittered to the side. “First time I... shifted... the Wolf reacted to me trying to slit my wrists. Stuck wandering the countryside of Yugoslavia in my fur, scaring farmers and being chased by sheepdogs for the better part of three weeks. Fun times.” 

“How incredibly, intriguingly, odd,” he murmured, his voice softening with that Doctor-unique cadence it got when he found something that properly fascinated him. She shrugged, wincing and curling into a ball again on the couch. 

“If you say so. I kinda hate it. Some women like to say that getting their moon sickness is their body punishing them for not being pregnant. Mine’s punishing me for not even having a significant other.” 

“‘Moon Sickness?’” The Doctor repeated, a startled laugh escaping his mouth. Rose snickered slightly. 

“Well. It’s a monthly thing. A moon phase is a month. It sounds a lot cooler than ‘menstrual cycle’ and more mysterious than ‘Satan’s Waterfall.’” Her shoulders shrugged again as his eyebrows shot well into his hairline. “In my case, Moon Sickness is actually sorta literal.” 

“Oh!” The Doctor exclaimed suddenly, sitting bolt upright with a pleased smile- the one he usually wore when he’d worked something out on his own. “That’s why the heating pad didn’t work! You’re already in Heat.” 

“Duh,” Rose muttered, grumbling under her breath and burying her face into a pillow. “Now, a _cold pack_, that might actually do something.” 

“Mm? Oh!” He sprang to his feet and ran out of the room. “I’ll get one!”

“Nice to have a Doctor on call,” Rose murmured softly with a weak smile. It turned into a smirk when an indignant reply floated back in from the hall.

“I heard that!” 

~§§~

Mags sighed as she sat across from Wilric in his uncle’s tavern, stirring around a bright fluorescent purple soup that vaguely resembled puréed squash and sniffing it suspiciously before deciding it smelled decent enough. She’d landed on the planet Gokroth a little while ago looking to find a nice, quiet place to be where she wouldn’t hurt anyone ever again. Well, landed wasn’t quite the right term. Crashed, more like. But she was making do. Her... condition... had worsened over the two years she’d traveled with Kingpin and Bellboy to the point where she could no longer control when she turned outside of a moon’s influence or not, and she couldn’t go back to Vulpana seeing as it was a primitive place where the people would shred her for smelling of the stars much like the witch burnings of Earth of old. 

She’d been to plenty of odd worlds during her travels, but this had to be the strangest yet. Gas lamps lit gravel streets lined with rough-hewn stones, chipping paint slathered over mud-brick houses slathered with a thin crumbling coating of light cement. Open fires warmed the rooms without any sort of advanced ventilation, the furniture somewhat simplistic and rough wood with hand-made linens. The people were simple and content, farming their little community plots on the edge of tall, thick forests from children’s stories full of unknown terrors bordering tall fences made of chain link and cobble. They defended themselves with spears and guns, dressed in rough linens fashioned in modern if simple style. 

Everywhere, mist hung like a damp shawl. It dissipated enough in the day to see for a good few miles if not for the trees, but in the evenings it hung thick and palpable over everything. Under the canopy of the forest, it never died. The only positive Mags could find in its chill embrace was that it blotted out the two ringed moons in the night sky. And, just like in the fairytales, a huge castle made of grey stone and tall towers stood on a cliff on the other edge of the woods. It came equipped with a drawbridge over a fast-rushing river that ended in a steep waterfall over the cliff side, a mostly-still lake stretching out forever below. 

To complete the Brothers Grimm aesthetic, a solitary woman with ash-pale skin and a hunch-backed sidekick named Gor lived inside. While the villagers of Gokroth referred to her as an alien scientist, educated enough to know she had advanced technology from the stars, they held her in the same regard that one would associate with a terrible, evil witch. 

Even worse, a hunter draped in exotic pelts had recently fallen from the stars in a ship and brought with him a cadre of leashed, docile but formerly malicious wild creatures. Her name was Dr. Maleeva, his name Varron. She was reclusive, quiet, studious. He liked to walk the streets of the village every once in a while and drink himself into a riotous uproar at the tavern Mags was now sitting in. And sometimes, she could swear...

He knew. Knew what she was. He’d get an odd gleam in his remaining steely blue eye, the claw scars clouding the other crinkling over a smooth-shaven but craggy granite face underneath shorn, spiky grey hair. His cowed and scarred creatures - most feline - trailed after him. There were always two, but those two were different each time. His ship was full of them, and while the villagers didn’t seem to understand what he was doing Mags did. After all, a Wolf knew better than any what it was to witness an assertion of dominance. 

Wilric was the son of the Head Woman Trella, and it was his uncle’s tavern. He’d taken a shine to her almost immediately; she knew all the signs of an eager would-be mate, thank you very much, and while she hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up by encouraging anything, Trella had taken a shine to her as well in the hopes that an off-worlder could help rig up the radio from one of the wreckages of the many starships that had crashed into Gokroth’s swamps over the years. Electrical storms and all that. One had taken her own vessel. 

...Such that it was, a rust bucket like that... but still. It had been her home for the better part of four months while she sought a more permanent - and reclusive - one. At first Gokroth had seemed to be a decent place to achieve that objective. A small hut, far in the woods, where she could hunt game and not worry about hurting anyone. If she so desired companionship, she could easily travel into market during the double New Moon when the moons’ powers were at their weakest and converse. Maybe trade some pelts she’d stocked up on. A quiet, simple, and uncomplicated life. 

But Dr. Maleeva might be able to cure her condition. She was a biologist, if what Wilric had told her was correct, and a very special kind on top of that. Genetic manipulation, gene therapies. No wonder the locals thought her Mad. But Mags was willing to give it a try. After all, she had nothing left to lose. 

So, when she heard the tell-tale clack of claws on the wooden floor as Varron stalked in for his once-weekly guzzle, Mags abruptly left. A curfew would be underway soon, but she wouldn’t stick around to get caught inside. Now that the guard dog was gone, the castle was open.

The woods were eerie at night, though she was more discomforted than afraid. Anything looking for a meal was likely to become a meal itself. It was the mist more than anything else that had her clutching her torn jacket tighter around her shoulders, the chill of the silence that made her quicken her step. This place seemed caught between the world of the living and the living dead, and it was not for the presence of mortal creatures. 

Mags swallowed as she approached the castle. The thick canopy of tall oaks and scattering of pines had kept away the steady drizzle that had begun earlier in the evening, and she shook the collecting droplets from her untamed hair impatiently as she cautiously walked onto the drawbridge. Unseen eyes were watching her from the forest and she pointedly ignored them as she walked apprehensively toward her future.

~§§~

The man behind the counter blinked as the Doctor walked up with three items in his arms. 

“That one for you then mate?” He asked, nodding at the bottle of wine. The Doctor blinked at it and shrugged. 

“It’s a good year. Why do you ask?”

“Well, tampons and chocolate. Not like you’re gonna be doing anything else tonight.” The Doctor’s brow furrowed in total confusion.

“Like what?” He asked, head tilting slightly to the side. “And what do feminine products and chocolates have to do with it?” 

“I- never mind,” the bloke muttered, sighing as he rang up the order. “Hope your lady friend feels better.”

“Thank you. I’ll tell her you said so.” At that the Doctor slung the bag over his arm and left, a triumphant smile on his face as he walked back to the TARDIS sitting in the parking lot of the Tesco he’d just exited. 

“You got them?” Rose asked hopefully as he strode into the library. She caught the bag and sighed in relief. “Oh, good.” 

“The man behind the register said he hoped you’d feel better,” the Doctor chirped innocently. Rose blinked at that before bursting into laughter, and he frowned. “What? He was acting odd too. What did I miss?”

“It- I- You-“ Rose took a deep breath, sighing as she swiped laughter tears from her eyes and patted him lightly on the shoulder as she walked toward the general direction of her bedroom and en-suite. “Oh, Doctor. It’s a good thing you’re sweet.”

“What did I miss!?” They both glanced up at the ceiling when the lights flickered, the TARDIS chirping to get their attention. The Doctor immediately made for the console room, Rose joining a few moments later after having made use of one of the tampons. 

“So, what’s wrong?” She asked. He was frowning as he listened to a garbled distress call that sounded like it was on repeat. 

“Not sure,” he admitted, hands shoving into his pockets as he rocked back on his heels. “It was clear for a few moments, but then another signal overlayed on top of it. One is a distress signal, the other a blanket quarantine announcement. Trouble is, I can’t tell what the quarantine is supposed to be _for_.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time someone made a fake pandemic to keep others from landing on the planet and messing up a dictatorship or slave society they’d set up,” Rose pointed out. 

“Mm... on the other hand, if it _is _a real quarantine, I’d much rather _not _have my internal organs liquified...” 

“Well, _I’ll _be fine.”

“Your concern is overwhelming.” 

“No, I can just hear the distress message better than you. Tune it. You’ll see. Well, hear.” He tossed her a look that highly suggested he doubted it but did so anyway, adjusting the frequency wavelengths until the distress signal shone apart from the quarantine far better. 

_“This is the world of Gokroth. We live as prisoners of fear. We are asking that someone- anyone- who hears this might have mercy and come to set us free. Monsters infest the forest around our village. All manner of beasts with scales and fur, teeth and claws. There are strangers. The silver one, and the hunter. Her unholy work in the castle on the mountain is guarded by his pets. Help us, please! Set Gokroth free!”_

“Ah,” the Doctor muttered, brow furrowing as he replayed the message. “Not such an innocent blanket signal after all then.” He sighed and rolled his eyes, casting Rose an amused glance. “You’d think that I’d have learned by now to trust your sense of hearing over mine, but no.” 

“It’s an easy mistake,” she replied unconcernedly with a shrug. “So, are we going then or what?”

“I’m not sure I want to take you somewhere where the message specifically said there was a hunter prowling about...”

“Like he’s going to know what I am,” she scoffed, turning in a full circle. “You said it yourself. I’m 100% human to any and all scanners except for a slight unidentifiable genetic aberration. And even if he _did _figure it out, I’m certainly not going to change into my fur so that he can hang my pelt on his wall.” 

“...Something tells me you’re being flippant because there’s more to it than that,” he murmured speculatively with a raised eyebrow, “but I’m not in a position to argue seeing as the concept of intergalactic Wolf hunters has never occurred to me before this moment.”

“There are... ways to make a Wolf shift,” Rose admitted. “And none of them are pleasant. But this bloke doesn’t sound that smart.”

“We _literally _know nothing about him,” the Doctor pointed out as he entered in the coordinates and pulled the materialization lever. She shrugged, flashing a cheeky smile.

“Well, guess I’m taking a page out of your playbook.”

“Oi!” 

The TARDIS suddenly let out a painful, high-pitched shriek as the lights flickered out and the ship tilted wildly to the side. They both went tumbling to the floor with varying exclamations of shock before the bulkheads groaned and the floor beneath them shuddered. 

“What’s wrong with her!?” Rose shouted, whispered apologies under her breath as she pulled herself up and stayed upright by digging her nails so deep into the edge of the console that the metal bent. 

“She doesn’t want to land!” The Doctor explained, hissing as he was thrown once again off his feet and banged his forehead in the process. “Ow!” 

_Land for us Dear, _Rose begged telepathically, letting her palms caress the edge of the console while her fingers were still dug in. The ship made a grumbling noise that was quite obviously a protest and then let out a whine. _Please? _The lights flashed mauve.

_Danger. _

_We’ll be careful. I promise. Please, land. _

The Doctor groaned as he finally managed to pull himself up and, rubbing at his head, frowned at the ceiling as their flight pattern evened out. The TARDIS let out one last reluctant grumble as the lights properly came on and then settled with an ominous rumble on the surface of Gokroth somewhere close to the source of the transmission. 

“What did you do to get her to cooperate?” He mumbled, blinking and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“I asked her nicely,” Rose replied, also frowning at the ceiling. “See, thing is, she can hear me, but I can’t hear her when it comes to telepathy. But she usually doesn’t listen to me if I try to tell her where to go seeing as you’re her pilot.”

“That makes sense,” the Doctor conceded, activating the view screen. “She and I are only compatible insofar as I can talk to her and direct her, and she can send me feelings. If she were able to speak back to me everything she could say would probably melt my mind. Beings that exist in eleven dimensions have that effect on those limited to five.”

“I thought, because you travel anywhere by folding- well, I thought Time Lords existed in the sixth dimension,” She retorted, brow furrowing adorably. He smiled.

“It’s possible for my people to _travel _in the sixth dimension, but only with a TARDIS,” he explained. “We exist at all times in the fifth, being aware of space-time on an instinctual level as well as the effects of physics and force upon the universe, but we cannot travel at will on our own to any place in space and time.”

“Ah.” Rose nodded sagely, wincing as she pulled her nails out of the console. “Sorry girl.” The TARDIS chirped in a way that screamed ‘not a problem’ and the two humanoids exchanged an amused look. “Well, let’s go shall we?” The Doctor glanced at the monitor and sighed.

“Oh, if we must I suppose. Just stay close and don’t get too comfortable with the locals,” he half begged, half ordered. Rose shrugged. 

“Try my best. But if somethin’ comes after either of us that isn’t humanoid I’m biting it.” He rolled his eyes as she flicked the lever for the door and all but skipped outside, leaving him to plod tiredly after. 

They both paused and took in their surroundings with interest, noting the odd incongruity of the cultural architecture and technology. It was also oddly devoid of people aside from the raucous noise coming from what was obviously a tavern. The sun had gone down ages ago, the three moons shining at different stages of their cycles in varying colors obscured by wisps of thickening cloud. To the south could be seen thunderheads already casting down rain. 

“We should get inside before the storm hits,” Rose muttered, sniffing delicately at the air and frowning. The Doctor nodded. 

“Interesting dynamic, this place. Very odd mix of advancement and simplicity.”

“Is it supposed to be that way, or do your time senses pick up on anything anachronistic?”

“...No, it’s as it should be,” he replied after a few moments, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t usually bother asking me those types of questions.”

“Yeah, well _usually _the TARDIS doesn’t take issue with us landing somewhere,” she pointed out. 

“Ah. You’re looking for reasons as to why she doesn’t want us here.”

“You have to admit it’s weird. Well, weird_er _than we usually deal with.” 

“True.” They pushed their way through the heavy wood door and into the tavern where a few lumberjacks and a man obviously the ‘hunter’ were laughing riotously at a table while the few other people there were hunched over their tables obviously trying to ignore them. The bartender looked much put-upon as well. 

“Ah, new arrivals!” The hunter said with a laugh, sweeping widely to the gathering. “Come, join us! Join us!”

“I don’t drink,” Rose said shortly, nostrils flaring ever so slightly as she eyed the normal, miserable wolf on the floor and the jaguar-lizard looking creature. She stopped suddenly, frowning, and looked directly at a booth where a young man was sitting hunched over some sort of food with a mostly-untouched bowl of the same substance across from him. Tugging lightly on the Doctor’s sleeve she walked over in that direction.

“Rose, what-“

“Is this seat taken?” 

“No,” the man muttered, eyes widening as he took in their appearance. “You’re not from here.”

“We’re not,” Rose agreed, sliding into the wooden booth and dragging a bewildered Doctor in after her. “But we aren’t the first off-worlder you’ve seen recently, are we? Or even tonight.”

“...No.”

“My name’s Rose, and this is the Doctor. What’s your name?”

“W-Wilric, but I don’t-“

“Where did Mags go?”

“Mags?” The Doctor asked, sitting bolt upright and looking at her in interest. “She was here?”

“Her scent is all over this booth.”

“She left for the scientist’s tower on the other edge of the forest,” Wilric sighed. “Why? What’s it to you?” 

“She’s a friend of ours,” the Doctor explained. “We’re worried about her.” 

“Well, that makes three of us then. Is she in trouble?”

“That’s what we-“ he broke off, eyes widening, and looked at Rose in surprise. She winced, biting her lip, as her cheeks and neck blushed with a rush of heat and a heavy, heady dose of tantalizing pheromones permeated the air. The room was suddenly quiet as the men seemed to notice how attractive she was. “Oh.” 

“Yeah, it _would _be right now,” she muttered, obviously embarrassed to the point of irritability, grabbing his hand and all but running out of the tavern. The Doctor briefly met eye contact with the hunter as they left and felt a chill run down his spine at the interest and pure callousness he found there. 

He followed Rose straight to the fence and through the gate leading out onto a sparse forest track without comment and simply waited for an explanation. 

“Anybody following us?” She asked after a short while.

“No,” he replied calmly, glancing behind them. “No one.”

“Good.” 

“Don’t fancy having a pack of suitors panting at your heels then?” He asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking with amusement. To his confusion she bit her lip, blushed further - and this time he was certain not from being in Heat - and wouldn’t look at him as she toed the forest soil with her trainer. 

“I’d much rather have a single person attentive and interested,” she muttered before shaking herself slightly and sighing, brow furrowing as she looked out over the misty forest. Every now and then a raindrop would make its way through the overly-thick canopy as the storm passed on its path toward the town they’d just vacated, but otherwise it was damp-dry and eerily silent. “And not because of- well, y’know. Anyway. I really don’t like that Wilric said Mags went up to the scientist’s castle.”

“Could you track her scent through all of this, this-“ the Doctor’s nose wrinkled in distaste as he kicked at the musty moss on the ground and Rose rolled her eyes in fond exasperation. 

“I mean, the forest kind of _is _the natural environment of _most _lupine species in the universe...” she teased. “No problem. Come on.” 

“Must say, I wouldn’t be nearly as comfortable out here if you weren’t a Wolf,” he commented, reaching habitually for her hand and frowning slightly when he couldn’t find it as both of hers were in her pockets as they walked. The tense set to his shoulders that Rose had noticed only relaxed when she twined their fingers together and she stifled a soft laugh as she guessed that he wasn’t even aware of it. They moved with easy companionship through the trees further and further northward.

“Yeah? Why’s that then?”

“Well, for one thing, anything trying to eat us will find itself sorely upset at having a meal that bites back. And for another, I enjoy the company.” 

“Smooth-talker,” Rose muttered good-naturedly, giving his hand a squeeze and grinning when he squeezed back. She sighed and breathed deeply, humming as the earthy scents of pine and oak mingled with growing things. “I always feel more at home in the wilderness. I mean, I love seeing new cities and space stations and stuff, but when it’s just me and the world beneath my feet... I feel like home could be anywhere.”

“Anywhere, eh?” The Doctor asked, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. Rose nodded. “Your species might be permanently nomadic then. It would explain why we’ve been unable to find a planet of origin. You feel strongest among the stars, and at home in the forests of any planet you come to. It fits with what I know of other nomadic species.” 

“Nomadic, huh?” Rose thought a moment and then nodded, smiling widely. She nudged him with her shoulder. “Guess we really are perfectly matched, huh? With all the traveling you do.” 

The Doctor’s breath caught and something shuttered in his oh so expressive eyes as centuries of pain and abandonment whispered that good things didn’t last, and he chuckled in a soft but façaded laugh as he tugged their hands apart to wrap an arm around her shoulders. Rose automatically rested her head on the top of that arm’s shoulder as if it were her place and right to do so and he didn’t have it in him to tell her otherwise.

“Right,” he finally said. “Matched.” 

A few minutes later the arm slid down to rest loosely at her waist and neither called comment to it, content to simply enjoy one another’s company. 

~§§~

Mags boredly paced around the laboratory as Dr. Maleeva prepared the experiment, noting with unease that her assistant Gor was watching her like a hawk in case she decided to make a run for it. The feeling of being watched made her feel increasingly like the caged animal she always tried so desperately not to become and she shuddered when the door slammed open and Varron strolled in. 

“Maleeva, my good doctor,” he all but purred, his sorry-looking pets trailing morosely behind him. The rest of his acquired entourage brooded in their pen and without a word the other two joined them, well used to the routine by now. “I’ve found another subject for you.”

“Another volunteer?” Maleeva asked, intrigued. Her silvery skin seemed to shimmer under the dim lights as her inquisitive lavender eyes flashed with interest and she impatiently blew a strand of curling raven hair out of her eyes as she prepped the machinery. 

“No, but a dangerous creature,” Varron explained. “She’s on her way here, and it would be prudent to separate her from her darker nature before she can become vicious.” His remaining good eye raked over Mags with an almost indifferent interest. “Anything you’ve got going can currently wait.”

“If you say so,” Maleeva muttered dubiously. She merely shrugged at the change of plans, cast Mags an apologetic look, and began the process of reconfiguring. “What sort of creature is she?”

“Full metamorphosis change,” he explained. “Entirely humanoid, then entirely monster.” Doubt crossed Maleeva’s features.

“It sounds like she can be reasoned with then,” she countered. “If she’s entirely humanoid-“

“One of her kind gave me this,” Varron snapped, pointing at his clawed and cloudy eye. “When my village was attacked as a child. I wear the pelt of the one that killed my father as a sign of my survival and a memory of where I came from. I will _never _forget that night. Trust me when I tell you they _cannot _be reasoned with.” His voice became eerily cold as he leaned toward her, Gor growling in the background as he edged closer in protective display of his mistress. “Do it, doctor. Or do I have to remind you who makes the funding possible? Or the emission of the quarantine signal?”

“Fine,” Maleeva snapped, glaring at him as she reluctantly flicked a switch. Mags swallowed and retreated to a dark corner to watch. She had a bad feeling about this. 

~§§~

“We’re being watched,” Rose muttered uneasily. The Doctor hummed, his quick and efficient step the only outward appearance to indicate that he shared that unease. Her eyes flicked to the third story balcony of the rather bare and unfantasy-like castle with its bare metal floors and smooth creamy concrete walls, tracking an object moving stealthily through the shadows. “Up there.”

“Mm.” A small, light object whizzed through the air and jabbed itself right under Rose’s left ear. She let out a distinctly canine yelp as she clutched at the spot, pupils dilating until her irises were almost entirely black as the Doctor spun around to check her over with alarm. He picked the object off the ground and wrinkled his nose when he sniffed it.

“Dart,” he muttered. “Filled with Wolfsbane. Or Monkshood, or Aconite, whichever you prefer.” Rose let out a soft growl and his eyebrows flew into his messy bangs as he slowly pocketed the dart and backed away from his companion, who looked to be in the process of an unwilling shift into her pelt. “Rose?”

“I- I can’t-“ she bit the words out before giving up the struggle and cooperating with the shift. 

“Are you all right?” The Doctor asked, crouching back on his heels. Rose whimpered and dropped her snout to balance on his knees, the top of her head pressed against his chest and flattening her ears. He stroked the fur between her shoulders and sighed. “I’m going to assume that was a ‘no.’” 

When he stood and resumed walking Rose was literally pressed against his leg, the fur on her back and shoulders brushing his hip when their strides resulted in contact. They both looked up, startled, when a loud clang echoed through the cavernous building and snarling drifted to their location a few seconds later. 

“That’s not good.” Rose let out a soft, high-pitched yip and practically wound herself around his legs as her fur fluffed out and stood on end at the suggestion of a threat. He glanced down and raised an eyebrow. “Whatever happened to ‘And even if he _did _figure it out, I’m certainly not going to change into my fur so that he can hang my pelt on his wall?’ Hmm?” She bared her teeth at him and ‘buffed’ in annoyance, to which he rolled his eyes. A few moments later they were backing toward the nearest exit as an entourage of hybrid and purebred carnivorous creatures stalked them. 

Things happened fast after that. One moment they were near the front entrance, the next something had got the Doctor clamped painfully but not brutally tight in its jaws and was carrying him at breakneck speed down a musty set of stairs and into a large and Mad Scientist Motif basement full of technology. Someone screamed, Rose was in the middle of a mob of creatures racing for the hunter who was drawing what looked like a silver knife, and then...

A giant lizard creature whipped its tail and caught her square in the chest, sending her flying through the air. She landed inside the field of what looked like a modified transmat and let out a pained yelp as the scientist yanked hard on a lever and the entire thing started up with arcs of white lightning flying off of it in all directions. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I haven’t had much ‘screen time’ with Rose as a Wolf yet, and have had absolutely zero interaction between the Doctor when she is in this form that has any true significance. Obviously, that’s gonna change.


	19. The Monsters of Gokroth II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PART 2 of 4
> 
> btw so I draw and paint as well as write, obviously. Just want to show y’all some of my Doctor Who painting...
> 
> https://ask-the-almighty-google.tumblr.com/post/615558270924587008/i-officially-finished-a-doctor-who

White hot agony shot through Rose’s body as she felt as if she were being torn apart at the cellular level. She heard screaming and it took her a few moments to realize it was coming from her own mouth. Someone grabbed her hand and yanked her from the machine as the room exploded into a cloud of thick, choking smoke, and it wasn’t until she was partially drenched and falling down a steep incline that she realized Mags had rescued her. 

They landed in a tumble of limbs at the bottom in some thorn bushes and Rose screamed again as she felt something in her chest crack. Several somethings. 

“Ow...” It was a few minutes after that she had come enough to her senses to realize three very crucial things. Well, four things. Well. Four things and a lizard. 

“Hello little guy,” Rose mumbled as she rolled away from Mags, reaching out and letting the tiny space gecko crawl onto her fingers. When had she shifted back? “Oh, I hurt all over.” 

“Rose? Are you okay?”

“‘M fine, Mags. Where’s the Doctor?” 

“I- I don’t know,” Mags murmured, sitting awkwardly beside her in the dirt. Her nose wrinkled slightly. “You smell funny. It’s like... your regular scent lingers on your clothes, but you smell... you smell...”

“I need to find the Doctor,” Rose muttered. She yelped as the ‘gecko’ suddenly expanded a ruffle of skin on its neck in a fan and hissed, sharp claws digging into her hand and making it bleed. The thing dropped into the soil with a final hiss and scurried into the underbrush, and Rose took in great rasping breaths as she clutched her shaking, trembling, and still bleeding hand to her chest. She wasn’t healing. 

“I tried to say,” Mags said gently. “You smell...”

“Human.”

~§§~

“Of course, this wasn’t how I thought I’d be spending my weekend,” the Doctor quipped off-handedly as he huffed and struggled under the deadweight in his arms. Rose let out a soft howling whimper that carried the vague understanding of the words ‘you don’t have weekends’ where her head rested on his shoulder and he shook his head slightly. “Dragging you through a forest after escaping a mad scientist’s castle, looking for a runaway circus performer, in the pouring rain, with a hunter straight out of something from _Brothers Grimm_. You certainly keep my life interesting.” 

“R-rooooowh...” 

“Any chance you might shift back soon? Wet fur is just an added amount of heavy I don’t need to deal with right now.” Rose made a noise that sounded as if she were desperately trying to say the word ‘no’ and the Doctor frowned, glancing about the area before trotting into a small hollow screened by ferns and setting her down. She looked up at him with bleary, unfocused eyes and sighed through her nose as she let her snout rest on his foot. 

“What do you mean, ‘no?’” He asked, crouching back on his heels. “Why not?” Something occurred to him and he took in a sharp breath. “Is it physically impossible for you to do so?” One of her ears flicked and he muttered a few choice words under his breath before ruffling the hair at the back of his head. 

“Yes or no questions... uh... flick twice for ‘yes,’ once for ‘no.’” 

One flick. _No._

“Was it something the machine did?”

Two flicks. _Yes. _

“I rarely say this so soon into what is shaping up to be a quite promising adventure, but I’m really beginning to hate this planet.” The Doctor’s brow furrowed in thought. “This is what the TARDIS wanted to stay away from. That’s interesting, considering she rarely ever interferes in the affairs of her passengers unless it directly applies to the timelines of her primary Pilot. She must _really _like you.” 

Rose’s tail wagged, stirring up fallen leaves, and he smiled softly at the indication behind that action. _Feeling’s mutual._

“You know, it was a severe lack of foresight on our parts not to have devised a system of communication when you’re in this form _before _you got stuck in it,” he commented as he moved to sit cross-legged in the somewhat damp dirt, ignoring the discomfort as it seeped in through his trousers as it was counteracted immediately by Rose curling her warm body against his back and resting her snout on the lower part of his left thigh. Her tail reached all the way around to curl underneath his right knee. Big, large whiskey brown eyes looked up at him and he groaned.

“No, not the puppy dog look,” he whined, slamming his own eyes tight shut. “It’s not fair when you‘ve actually _got _puppy dog eyes.” He risked a glance and immediately shut them again. “No. Not looking. This doesn’t change the fact that I’m miffed with you. I _told _you coming here was a bad idea, and when _I’m _the voice of common sense you should _really _know things are bad-“

The Doctor broke off as Rose lifted her head and licked him on the nose, opening his eyes to glare at her reprovingly. 

“Now you _know _that’s not fair.” 

~§§~

“The machine?” 

“What?” Mags asked, glancing over at her friend. She hadn’t moved or spoken since the gecko had clawed her, and that had been well over an hour ago. Rose slowly raised her head, her hair falling like a curtain around her where she was hunched against a log holding herself like everything was in pain. 

“What was that machine?” Rose repeated. “What does it do?”

“It uses transmat technology to separate out the beast from the person,” Mags explained slowly. “Dr. Maleeva made adjustments to a standard transmat to turn it into a separator. She’s really the only one that knows how to use it.”

“And the hunter?” Mags shuddered. 

“Varron. He’s... not from around here. The little bit I know is that he grew up in an area of space travelers call the Frontier. It’s wild, much of it is uncharted, and strange things live there. Dangerous things. There were small settlements, proto-colonies, for a time. But then the biggest one went dark. The official report said that something... came from the Dark and killed them all. Wild creatures, more deadly than death itself. The expansion project was given up after that, and that region has been unpopulated ever since.”

“What does that have to do with Varron?”

“He was a kid when the attack on the colony happened. Only survivor. That’s all I know. But it explains a lot.” 

Rose groaned, hunching over and clutching at her stomach as pain washed over her, and Mags’ brow furrowed in concern. 

“Need to find the Doctor and get this fixed,” she grumbled. The remaining Wolf nodded. 

“Do you have anything of his on you that I could-“ Rose snorted with pained laughter and she trailed off.

“Scent’s all _over _me, mate. Just like mine’s all over _him_. We have absolutely zero sense of personal space.”

“And he’s not your Mate,” Mags retorted with the raise of an eyebrow, the capital ‘M’ poignant in the sentence. Rose’s expression turned slightly sad and she nodded sagely. “Ah. Don’t tell me. I get it.” 

“Thanks,” Rose muttered. “I’m content to leave things be. It’s nice to have someone that cares about me, no matter how that affection is expressed. Makes a change from the majority of my life.” She shook herself slightly. “But could you pull his scent off of me and track him?”

“I could,” Mags replied thoughtfully. “But I’d like to get you to the village first. You’ve got broken bones, it looks like everything else is in great pain-“

“Sounds fine by me,” Rose whispered. Mags’ eyebrows shot into her untamed hairline.

“Okay, I was mildly worried before, but now I’m actively concerned,” she murmured. “You not fighting me on this is _not _a good sign.” 

“I’m just- I’m so... tired...” 

“Rose!”

~§§~

“It’s probably just a squirrel,” the Doctor said soothingly, ruffling the fur between Rose’s ears as she growled at the bushes. He swallowed, well aware that she could smell his fear. He couldn’t even fool himself. “An... outer space... squirrel...” A single flick of an ear.

_No_.

“Dangerous?” Two flicks.

_Yes. _

“Should we run?”

_Yes._

“Right then, I’m not one to overstay my welcome when I know I’m not wanted,” he said brightly, springing to his feet and quickly brushing the dirt off his trousers as Rose slowly stood with her hackles raised and fangs bared. 

_No._

“Are you- are you calling me a _liar!?_” He exclaimed. “In _binary!?_” 

_Yes._

“...Of all the cheek...” 

The bushes rustled and they both took off running, Rose stubbornly a few paces behind quite obviously in between him and whatever had been bold enough to follow. A sort of warbling bellow shook the tree branches above their heads and the Doctor didn’t dare look back lest he trip over something. 

Rose spun and launched herself into the darkness suddenly and he leapt right into a tree, scrambling into the lowest branches and watching with horror as a furious Wolf tangled in a rolling mess of bloodied teeth and claws with a hybrid leopard/lizard creature. He rifled about in his pockets and sighed in relief when he found the equivalent of an elephant tranquilizer and a blow dart tube, taking quick but careful aim and firing. The strange creature let out a high-pitched yelp and fell heavily into the dead leaves with a thud; Rose staggered away from its now-limp form and fell heavily onto her rear with a rasping pant. The Doctor launched himself out of the tree, the impact shuddering painfully up from his shins to his knees as he’d been in too much of a hurry to properly brace himself first, and scurried over to check her over. 

Miraculously there didn’t seem to be any lasting damage, just surface lacerations and abrasions. Rose seemed to appreciate his attentions because she flicked her tongue out to lick the tip of his nose in gratitude, and heaving a sigh of relief the Doctor pulled her head into his lap and stroked her ears for a few minutes. 

“What is this thing?” He muttered, frowning at the slumbering beast and reluctantly moving to crouch on his heels beside it. “Oh, you poor thing... well, _you’re _certainly not _au natural _by any stretch of the imagination. What sort of mad scientist got a hold of you, eh? Better question, what were you before and why did they do this...” 

Rose let out a soft ‘boof’ in question and he ruffled the hair at the back of his head. 

“Mind you I’m guessing on what your question was, but I’ll give an answer all the same... I really don’t think Dr. Maleeva did this. All of her equipment is geared toward _separation_, not _fusion_. It-“ he broke off, eyes widening, and turned to regard her with abject horror. “Oh. Oh, Rose... I think. I think- Mags might have a um, a friend.”

“You’re quite clever Doctor,” the hunter from the tavern chuckled as he stepped out of the shadows. Rose whimpered and cowered behind the Doctor as he stood and glared at the man who had several odd hybrid creatures trailing meekly after him.

“And you’re wearing the pelt of one of my friend’s kin,” he said evenly. Tight anger was simmering in the tensed muscles and slight twinge of the ones in his jaw. “Is that what you do? Dr. Maleeva separates the experiments out into God knows what and then you hunt them, tame them into your own personal trophies? The ones you can’t tame you kill and collect souvenirs from?” The hunter - Varron, if he remembered correctly - smirked and gave a tiny golf clap.

“Exactly. But you’ve left out the best part, which is the good doctor’s complete ignorance of my stake in matters. To her, I’m merely around as an insurance policy in case she needs an expert in wild animals.” 

“Are these experiments hers?”

“No no no. Her people. They don’t much care for adhering to the laws of civilized sciences. Look upon any species they see as lesser as prime subjects for their tests. Poor Maleeva took pity on the lab rats and brought them here to separate them out. Return the sentients to their prior state and leave the beast alone. Poor creatures lose their memory half the time, bless.” 

“And Gor?”

“That unattractive gremlin is merely from a species of rather gifted cargo pilots that Maleeva’s people are in alliance with,” Varron said dismissively. He was eyeing Rose with an unsettling glint in his eye. “Oh, but what a lovely pelt you wear my dear.”

“You want to hurt her, you go through me,” the Doctor snapped, backing up so that Rose was protected from behind by a huge tree trunk when some of Varron’s animals tried circling around to ambush her. “And I would think long and hard about messing with me.”

“All bark but no bite,” came the laughing reply.

“I think you’ll find my companion has more than enough teeth to balance it all out. She never hurt you. Why are you hunting her?”

“I avenge my father on every stinking Letoan I meet,” Varron snapped, eyes flashing as he drew a wicked silver dagger from his Wolf cloak. “I swore it on his corpse. The pelt I wear comes from the back of the brute that murdered him.”

“I somehow doubt that a Letoan could-“

“Have you never seen one of her kind succumb to their darker natures?” Varron’s eyes glinted cruelly in the foggy moonlight as the Doctor swallowed, painfully remembering Stubbe. “You have. Tell me...”

“Doctor.”

“Tell me, Doctor. How long before your pleasant little friend turns on you? It’s in their nature. They’re _animals. _And they should be slaughtered as such.”

“No creature deserves to meet their end by your hand, sentient or otherwise,” the Doctor finally said after a few moments, swallowing again in mounting discomfort as Rose pressed her flank against the back of his legs in pure abject terror. “And you know nothing about her. Leave her be.”

“Mm... I think not.” 

The animals advanced on his command, snarling and snapping, but cowered and ran when an almighty crashing resounded from the bushes. 

“Hunter, must, justice!” A garbled voice bellowed. Varron paled, growling at them with the fury of Hell burning in his remaining eye, before abruptly retreating back into the forest. The Doctor crouched low to the ground and gripped tightly to Rose’s neck as they faced whatever had spooked Varron, both letting out breaths of astonishment as a large bear mixed with something else broke free of the clearing’s edge. 

“Hello there,” the Doctor murmured. Rose made a soft chirping sound that he guessed conveyed the same sentiments, her nose resting on one of his knees. The bear regarded them for a few moments before gesturing with a wicked clawed paw. 

“Follow.”

~§§~

Mags huffed as she dragged Rose back into the village, collapsing in the middle of the muddy path and sighing in relief when Wilric burst out of the gathering crowd to help her carry the young woman the last few steps into the Main Hall. She was laid on a cot nearest the fire and immediately curled close to the source of warmth with a pained whimper, entire body shivering regardless.

“What did that witch do to her!?” The Head Woman asked. Mags sighed, briefly closing her eyes to gather patience. Trella, Wilric’s mother, was headstrong and confident. She was every inch the leader of the village; even at a height of 4’10” and a frame so thin as to allow a hefty gust of wind to knock her over, she had grey streaks the color of steel in her ebony bun and eyes the color of flint that glinted with authority when they landed on their current victim. It would be difficult to talk her round without becoming agitated.

“It wasn’t Dr. Maleeva,” Mags explained slowly, well aware that the entire village was watching her. “She’s being manipulated by the hunter. Varron. She seems to think she’s helping, and he lets her because he can hunt at leisure that way.”

“But Maleeva-“

“Is misunderstood,” Mags stressed, desperation creeping into her tone. I was _there_. Rose was... experimented upon... against her will. And Varron convinced Maleeva she was dangerous. But I _know _Rose. She’s kind. She’s loyal. Yes, she’s fierce, but only toward those that would hurt those she cares about. Maleeva wasn’t allowed to see that. It was all Varron.” 

“Why would Maleeva believe this girl to be dangerous?” Trella asked with a glint entering her eyes. Mags swallowed. 

“Her- her people are shapeshifters,” she said slowly. “They shift at will, retaining _full sentience _mind, between the body of a humanoid and the body of an animal. No crossing, full change. And I’ve been honored to see her in both forms. The animal is used in self-defense against those that would attack her, not to harm. That is not the purpose.” Mags drew her arms around her torso and shuddered. “I think- I think Varron wanted her pelt, and tried to force her into becoming the animal to kill her. But something went wrong, because she’s missing that half of her. She is only human now.” 

“I... must think on what you have told me,” Trella said slowly, blinking. Mags sighed.

“I expected as much. I can only reassure you that in her present form she is no danger to anyone. And she is quite ill.”

“I can clearly see that for myself.”

After being assured that everything possible was being done for Rose, Mags took a walk along the fence of the village. Wilric had tagged along like a besotted shadow, but he had the decency to remain quiet and leave her alone with her thoughts.

It was interesting, really. Even with Rose as a human, the lingering scent of her Wolf side was calming her. They may both have been Alpha Lunas, but Rose’s species always rated higher when it came to Vulpanans to the point that it was instinctual. Just being around the fading memory of that influence was stabilizing her ability to control her own Wolf that lay sleeping within her. A peace that she had not felt since meeting the pair at the Psychic Circus and overcoming any outside influence had stolen over her body, and Mags breathed deeply of the night forest air in relaxed relief. 

Mags couldn’t help but wonder if they’d be willing to take her with them when they left. She was, after all, more of an acquaintance than a true friend, and... well. She was also pretty sure the Doctor hadn’t told Rose about what had happened in the circus ring, because from what she could gather about the legends her planet had Letoans did not take kindly to anyone attacking what they felt to be theirs. And eventually it would come out, and... 

...Maybe asking to hitch a lift wasn’t such a good idea after all. Sure, Mags had told the village that Rose was harmless, and for the most part that was true. But if anything happened to the Doctor... 

...Well. Rose had chosen, whether she had any true say in what her head and heart dictated or not, that that man was her Intended Mate. If that was never reciprocated on his part it would make no difference. She was his for the rest of his life, whether he was aware of it or not, and there really wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for him. There was also nothing either of them could do about it. He had inadvertently seared himself onto her soul, and she was oh so willingly lost to it.

Mags cruised to a halt near the fence and frowned slightly, Wilric hovering like a lost puppy nearby. Come to think of it, if Rose had never mentioned anything - and Mags was 100% sure she hadn’t - then the Doctor really had no way of knowing. He was likely continuing blissfully along unaware of the complete and total devotion Rose held for him. 

Mm... maybe it _would _be a good idea to ask to travel with them for a little while, if only to drop some subtle and/or not so subtle hints to him. 

“Oh, I don’t _really _have to play matchmaker if I decide to go do I?” Mags groaned, the sudden sound startling poor Wilric. She shook her head. “Then again, they were _both _in denial the last time I saw them. And Rose is content not to push anything.” She straightened her spine and began walking again with hardening resolve. “Yes. If that’s what it takes, I’ll gladly accept the role.” 

Shouldn’t be too hard, she reasoned. Rose’s instincts and - finally - self-realized feelings made the matchmaking very one-sided. All she had to do was convince the Doctor. Although, he did seem the sort to be entirely oblivious to that sort of thing. He and Rose worked so well together specifically for the reason that she noticed the small things he missed and he could see and explain to her the big picture so that, together, they had the full story of what was going on wherever they went. Only, in this instance, that was working against them as Rose wasn’t willing to point out the small details. 

“You’re going to drive me spare, aren’t you?” Mags sighed flatly, already resigned. She ignored Wilric’s confused stutter and continued walking the fence.

~§§~

The Doctor kept a sharp eye around them as the bear creature lumbered on ahead, all too aware of Varron’s gaze following them unseen from the shadows even if he couldn’t prove the man was actually there. Rose was pressed so closely to his side that the tips of her fur had gotten in between the weaving of his trousers and were lightly tickling his leg, but she seemed more relaxed when he put his hand between her shoulders and every little bit helped. With the respite from having to be constantly vigilant - other creatures like the bear had surrounded them in what appeared to be a loose shield rather than a prisoner escort - and the walk was allowing him to puzzle over his thoughts on what had thus far happened.

First, the TARDIS had been entirely reluctant to land on Gokroth. She’d protested and flashed mauve and even resisted his piloting directions as best she could before huffing and conceding, and when they’d finally got onto the planet’s surface they’d unexpectedly picked up on Mag’s trail. A trail that had led them to the castle of a naive but sane scientist suffering from Bleeding Heart Dyndrome, who had been tricked by Varron for his own nefarious purposes. 

And now Rose was trapped in her Wolf form. And if his suspicions were correct, there were currently two halves of her wandering the planet. One Wolf, which was walking beside him, and the other Human, who presumably (he hoped) was safely back at the village with Mags. 

...

How on Earth was he supposed to sort _this _mess out?? 

There was nothing for it, really. If what he suspected was true, he’d have to convince Maleeva to ditch Varron and to restore Rose back to her whole and quite singular self. But first things first.

“Uh, excuse me, but where are we going?” He asked politely of their protectors. The bear’s ear flicked backward in a show of acknowledgement of the question but the creature said nothing. Rose made a series of sounds and received a few yips and barks from a wolf... rabbit... thing... “Well, apparently one of us now knows where we’re going,” he sighed, shoving his free hand into his trouser pocket while the other one scrunching Rose’s fur. 

She tilted her head to nuzzle at his fingers and he nodded. She’d taken to doing that when she was trying to be encouraging, letting him know that whatever she knew was good by her standards or at least acceptable.

“Oh, let me tell you Rose Tyler. You and me? We’re going to be having a very long library session figuring out how to communicate with one another in case something like this ever happens again.” The Doctor brightened somewhat. “Maybe you can teach me the language of Wolves.”

Rose flicked her ear once in the negative and he grimaced slightly.

“What, forbidden knowledge or some such?”

_No_. 

“Would I not be capable of reproducing the sounds or something, then?” 

_Yes_.

“Interesting... file that away to discuss later. Because, and I mean this with all due honesty Rose, I am intrigued. Very intrigued. It seems there are aspects of your species neither one of us has been aware of until now. Strengths, limitations...” his brow shot into his bangs as Rose let out a pained yelp, stumbled over something, and face-planted in the soil. The Doctor hummed in concern and knelt to pull her back onto her feet, frowning as he felt her temperature suddenly spike. 

“I don’t at all like the heat your core is giving off,” he muttered. “Feeling all right?” His chest tightened when he got an answer.

_No._

“Right, you’re done for the day,” he muttered, ignoring her protests or the protests in his body as he hefted her and staggered along the forest trail. He was slightly gratified by the reluctant but grateful swish of her tail as she rested her head against his shoulder and promptly fell asleep. It was, after all, entirely endearing that she felt safe enough to do that in his presence. “I’ve got you, Darling. You conserve your energy. I’ll wake you when we get- well, wherever we’re going.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I’ve been away for a bit. I had to turn in (I estimate) a 65 page project for uni, and then there were two research projects from other classes each totaling ten pages. Life has been horribly stressful as of late. But the terror has passed, the big projects over, and I emerged with B+ and higher grades in the classes they belong to. I have only exams left. I’m still recovering from the emotional drain, and have some mild writer’s block for this particular story arc as I am very impatient to get to the one that comes after, but slowly and surely I will tease out Rose’s past and species. This story, and two more in the future coming up, will prep for a wonderful climax of storytelling I hope. 


	20. Monsters of Gokroth III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PART 3 of 4
> 
> By the way you’re getting two chapters this update because I had bad writer’s block on part three and had a rush of inspiration for part four so... *shrugs* c’est la vie. I don’t anticipate anyone complaining about the whims of my fickle muse. Part four will be up by the evening.

It was raining even harder, if that were possible, by the time the little troupe of animals and singular Time Lord apparently arrived at their end destination. It was a proper hollow with small caves and thatch-roof lean-tos, mud everywhere from the damp. Rose was still out cold, snuffling lightly against his shoulder, and rather than put her down the Doctor moved to sit on a moss-covered flat rock and then slowly leaned backward so that he was lying down with her half on his chest and her back legs and tail curled snugly against his torso.

“You are mate,” the bear said flatly. It could have been a question, but it didn’t sound like one.

“Friends,” the Doctor corrected with a soft, somewhat exasperated smile. “Despite what most people assume.”

“No,” the bear countered with a confident shake of its head. “Mate.” The Doctor rolled his eyes but didn’t bother to try correcting the creature again; he could tell it would be a waste of effort.

“What do you know about the Hunter at the castle?” He asked instead, changing the subject. The question was met with hisses and snarls from the assembled hordes. 

“Hunter is cruel,” a huge leopard with a tail made entirely of feathers growled. It pointed to a long gash on its flank with a forepaw made of eagle’s talons, still red and weeping slightly. “He cares only for beasts. Not our kind. Hunts beasts. Hurts kind. Traps kind. Takes kind up to stone dwelling. Kind not return. More beasts come.”

The... _kind_, are experimented on,” the Doctor explained gently. “From what I can tell the good doctor separates the beasts from the reason. I don’t know what becomes of that though, nor how the village ties in to what’s going on around here...” he trailed off, looking thoughtful. “No matter. I have bigger things to worry about so long as Varron- Ah, the Hunter- stalks the forests.”

“We are one enemy,” the bear huffed, nodding with approval. “Same.” 

“He hurt my friend and I want to know why,” the Doctor muttered, idly running his fingers through the fur between Rose’s shoulder blades and staring up at the tree canopy. “He made a point of telling me he specialized in Letoans, wears the pelt of one of her kind. I most definitely want to stop him before he can kill her.” 

“Hunter kill,” the leopard grumbled, sitting gingerly on its haunches. “Kind fight. Wolf not kind.”

“She’s more kind than beast,” the Doctor reasoned, slowly sitting up and maneuvering Rose’s head onto his knee so that he could better hold a conversation. The tenses and nouns were difficult as every single one seemed to have a different meaning, the conversation stilted but still intelligent and hard to follow without concentration. 

“Traveler speak truth,” the wolf-rabbit from earlier piped up in an odd, sing-songy sort of voice that easily reminded the Doctor of lyric verse. “She is kind. She has soul. Talk well. Understand all tongues.”

“Then kind protect,” the bear said decisively. 

“You’re the leader around here then I take it,” the Doctor breathed, heaving a sigh of relief. The feeling of lightness lasted all of three seconds before Rose curled into a tight ball at his side and let out a low-pitched wail that had the short hairs standing up at the back of his neck, and frantically he checked her pulse and temperature. It was high, very high, and the racing blood pressure was no assurance either when coupled with her shallow, rapid breathing. “Rose? No, no no... don’t do this. I don’t know how to help you. I don’t know what’s been done. I can’t- Oh!” 

“You... are a wonderful person,” he murmured as he rummaged in his pockets and pulled out his Sonic Screwdriver, lightly kissing the casing before scanning Rose’s inert form. “You were right of course, you usually are. I really did need this thing. Now...” the sonic whirred as it collected data, diligently doing its job and calculating results off on the side as the Doctor hummed softly and stroked the silky fur of Rose’s ears. “You’ll be okay.” Softer, barely a breath of a prayer to whoever might be listening, he added, “please be okay...”

~§§~

“Is Rose still unconscious? Wilric asked quietly. Mags looked up from where she was sitting beside Rose’s makeshift cot and nodded, wetting another flannel in a basin of cool water and draping it apprehensively over her patient’s burning brow. Her face was flushed with fever, her breathing shallow and quick, and Mags could hear her heart racing inside of her chest. There was also the slight... cosmetic... matter that was occurring, but Mags wasn’t willing to approach that with a ten foot pole considering the circumstances. She’d leave that for the Doctor to figure out. 

“Do your people have anything that could be used to slow down heart rate? Medicines, tonics, anything?” 

“Uh... no. No, I don’t think so,” Wilric said apologetically. He swallowed. “Mags... I think. I think you need to go back to Maleeva and ask her for help. She can’t have meant for something like this to happen.”

“She still did it!”

“But you were the one that said that- that it was Varron that told her to, that he’s manipulating her,” he reminded reasonably. “What other choice do you have?” 

“None,” Mags huffed, slumping on the bench she was sitting upon in defeat. 

“Well you won’t have to go far,” Trella said from the doorway to the great hall, startling them. Her face was stony with disgust and when she continued speaking her words dripped with disdain. “The good _doctor _decided to grace us with her presence. Her _and _her pet.”

“But what about Varron?” Mags asked sharply, rising to her feet. Where is he?”

“Not here. All I know.” Trella raised an eyebrow. “Anything I should know?”

“He’s a psychotic murderer,” Mags spat. “Keep him out of the village.”

“Will do.” A pause, and a softening in tone to become inflected with concern. “I hope you can save your friend.”

“Me too.” 

It was with great reluctance that Mags would leave Rose’s side, so Wilric was kind enough to volunteer to fetch Maleeva for her. A few minutes after he had left he reappeared with both she and Gor behind. Maleeva’s expression of resigned annoyance immediately turned to surprise and worry as she hurried the last few steps toward the cot, and with a soft hum of intrigue she dropped onto her knee to inspect Rose’s unconscious form more closely. 

“What happened to her?” She asked, words clipped.

“_You _did,” Mags growled. Their eyes met. “Your experiment is killing her!”

“...She was the Wolf,” Maleeva breathed as understanding dawned in her gaze. “But I don’t- I’ve _never _had a reaction like this to my-“

“She wasn’t your average _creature!_” Mags shouted. “_She’s a Letoan!_”

“Letoan!?” The doctor gasped, her already silvery pale complexion turning entirely white. “I- I didn’t- I didn’t know! If I had, I never would have- Varron said-“

“You trusted _Varron!?_” Mags scoffed. “Of course. Trust the man who wears the pelt of her kin as a cape. He lives to _hunt_, Maleeva. He doesn’t care about your _experiments_.”

“He said she was a vicious, dangerous beast that would attack as soon as look at you...” she seemed to break a tiny bit inside as she sank entirely to the floor and watched Rose struggle to live with mounting guilt. “All of my experiments... my um, my people. They experiment on so-called _lesser species_. I knew it was wrong, and when I found an opportunity I took their test subjects and ran. Gor helped me. We came to this place and set up shop. I... it was easier, for us. To let the subjects live in the forest until we could help them one by one. They understood, in their limited way. Knew I wanted to help.”

“I sense a ‘but’ in there somewhere,” Mags prodded when there was a lag in dialogue. Maleeva nodded, taking a breath as she began to inspect Rose’s vitals. 

“Yes. You see, I was successful. Able to separate the humans from the animal DNA they’d had fused into their genetic structure. But there was a side effect. They lost their memory-“

“The village,” Mags interrupted, eyes widening in understanding. 

“The family groups _are _family groups,” Maleeva hastened to add, not even looking up from her patient. “There was just enough residual memory to bind them together as families. It was the best I could do.” She sighed. “I wish it could be more, but...”

“You’re giving them their lives back. That’s more than enough.”

“But they can’t _remember _anything!”

“Maybe not. But are they in pain? Aside from being scared of the castle and the forest, are they afraid? They’re _happy_. Their lives are simple, yes. But they’re _living_. They have their families. You gave them back their humanity.”

“I thought you hated me,” Maleeva muttered sourly. Mags grimaced.

“I still don’t like you,” she admitted. “But I engage in enough self-abuse to recognize it in others. And I also know when it’s deserved or not. Now, can you save her?” 

“I... I need to get her back to my lab.” 

“Then take her. Oh, and Wilric is going with you.”

“Why, aren’t you coming?” Maleeva asked in surprise as Mags rose from her seat and walked toward the door. She paused and looked back over her shoulder before disappearing into the street.

“No. I need to find the Doctor. I’ll meet you there.” 

Once outside, Mags took a moment to breathe deeply of the misty dawn air. The great hall had been stifling in comparison, and the Wolf in her itched to shake out her fur and run. She rarely indulged such a thing, but finding the Doctor was of the utmost importance and she could do so far more quickly in her pelt than in her skin. 

Past the gate she let the Wolf free, peace stealing over her as she caught the Doctor’s scent and began to search for her quarry. 

She didn’t expect to run into Varron and his mismatched pack of mangy brutes.

~§§~

The Doctor could only listen in stupefied horror to the results his sonic were spitting out in whirring chirps and beeps, not entirely certain they were accurate. His fingers trembled as he fondled one of Rose’s ears and gently traced the line of her brow from ear tip to ear tip, mind turning over multiple trains of thought all at once. He didn’t like any one of them. 

To sum it up, Rose was dying. Both forms. The Letoan virus had bonded itself so intrinsically with her human cellular structure that neither Wolf nor Human could live separated from the other. It was like- well, it was like him trying to live with only one heart when he’d been built to survive with two. He could last a few hours before going into full cardiac arrest, at which point he would either regenerate or die. In much the same way, Rose had limited time before both bodies’ genetic coding completely unraveled without being bound together. 

He had no idea if there would be any lasting, perhaps permanent damage. He sincerely hoped not but such endings were extremely rare.

It was with this desperation in mind that the Doctor approached the Kind leader with a rather odd request.

“Kind not go near castle,” the bear growled. 

“I don’t ask you to,” he replied miserably. “But Rose doesn’t have any other choice. If Maleeva can’t reverse what she’s done, Rose _will _die. And I can’t allow that to happen without trying my best to save her first. I’d never forgive myself.”

“Kind not go!”

“I merely ask permission to take our leave of your people. You’ve been more than ki- Ah. That is, you’ve been more than generous to us. You had no reason to protect us from Varron, but did so anyway. And I cannot tell you how grateful I am. But I’m desperate. There’s no other option. Just- please. Let us go, if you won’t go with us. Please.” A small bit of moonlight shone through a gap in the cloud bank and the trees, making his sandy blond hair turn silvery platinum and his eyes shine. “I can’t lose her without trying.” 

The bear was silent for a few moments before heaving a heavy sigh that shook its entire frame. 

“Kind take you to path. Go no further. Let human save mate.”

“Thank you.” The Doctor bit back the immediate correction on his presumed species and marital status and focused instead on Rose. Some things were more important than telling people they were just friends. For instance, making sure he still _had _a friend for people to incorrectly assume his marital status over. 

That thought in and of itself gave him pause, and his gaze flickered toward the Wolf currently unconscious nearby as his brow furrowed. It had been a long time since anyone had mistakenly assumed he and a companion were married. The last had been with Romana only a few days after her regeneration, something that had made the two of them gag and avoid speaking with one another for a good week. They were friends by that point, of course, even if they hadn’t yet become close, but with the courting rituals of Gallifrey such as they were such a thought was the human equivalent in terms of eliciting societal disgust as suggesting a person date their sister. It just wasn’t done. It just- Lungbarrows didn’t form political marriages with Heartshavens. It wasn’t done. 

He shuddered, roughly shoving that mental image as far back into the recesses of his at times dusty memory with prejudice he hefted Rose up with a strained grunted and went about getting on with his plans. 

As promised, the bear brought friends. The lizard creature and wolf creature came along too, the small amount of protection no less intimidating simply due to the sheer seriousness with which they seemed to approach their job. Not even a bird dared approach them on the long walk to the castle path in which the Doctor slipped and stumbled over the wet earth. 

~§§~

“Well, this wasn’t how I was expecting this to go,” Varron commented smugly as he walked a slow circle around Mags, who growled at him and bared her fangs. In her Wolf form she appeared half humanoid half animal and looked nothing like either at the same time. “I was after a far different Wolf. Thought you might have been one at first, in fact.” His chuckle was in no way a nice one. “How wrong I was... Vulpanan?”

“Yes,” Mags growled, voice deep and distorted.

“Mm. Pity. Your pelt would have served me well as a throw rug upon which the clean my boots. Your friend’s, on the other hand, will be my new cloak. Such a pretty golden color.” 

“Think again.” Mags launched herself at him, fangs and claws bared, and he stepped easily to the side. She was immediately beset upon by numerous dumb beasts; Varron watched the fight with a smirk as writhing furry bodies rolled in a vicious tangle of snaps and swipes across the decaying forest floor. 

“Oh, I think not. The General never stands in the place of his cannon fodder.” 

With several yips Mags extracted herself from the the horde and ran deep into the trees. When she was well away Varron knelt to the ground so that he was close to his tamed animals. 

“Follow her scent,” he practically purred. “She was looking for something, and I’ll wager that that something was a Wolf and a Doctor. Now, go. Get me my prize.” 

The beasts tore off after Mags’ scent trail and he followed along at a casual, ambling pace. There was no need to hurry, after all. They’d still be there when he arrived. 

The Doctor looked up in alarm as the sound of an animal crashing through the trees was followed by the baying of a hunting party. Beside him the leopard, bear, and wolf creatures growled and readied themselves. The trio were far more aware of what was going on than he was with their heightened senses and he took the time to deposit Rose in a semi-safe and hidden location; it was the best he could do at short notice, and while they had time he took the opportunity to check her vitals once again. 

The outcome was not good. Rose was worsening, and he was running out of time. 

“Doctor! Rose!” The Doctor’s head shot upward to see Mags in her Wolf form skidding into the tiny clearing, bleeding and enraged, as Varron’s pets pursued her.

“Mags! Where’s Varron?”

“Behind!” She shouted, letting out a yelp as a tiger dug its claws into her back and pulled her down. The Kind immediately attacked, coming to her aid. 

It was quite the bloodbath, really. There was a semi-uniform scarlet spray dusting the foliage and soil, the trees painted with rusty droplets and the air laden with the sharp tang of iron. At some point Varron appeared, wrestling with the leopard-lizard and driving a dagger deep into the creature’s shoulder. It let out a chilling scream that had the rest of the Kind that had stayed behind on their location in a matter of minutes and the fight evened out some. 

Mags kept herself firmly in the middle of everything. She was vicious when in her pelt and downright brutal when fighting for her life, and adding onto the fact that she hated Varron with a passion he was lucky she hadn’t launched herself at him yet. Her claws tore through wood as well as flesh with reckless abandon and her teeth held whatever was in their reach viselike in powerful jaws. Raw strength overpowered whatever came after her.

As for the Doctor, he stayed firmly in between Rose and the chaos. This wasn’t a plausible position as two dogs approached him, driving him further away as they were not dissuaded by the stick he’d picked up in self-defense. Something slammed into the side of his head and he went down for a few moments, wrestling with the squirming bodies of the dogs as they pounced. He blindly kicked out and used his temporal abilities in ways he hadn’t had to before, slowing time for a few crucial seconds here and creating pockets of stillness there. His entire species could do so of course, though it was difficult. 

Quite honestly, his skills were rusty and the concentration required was taxing. He swiped at his face during a brief respite and winced at the nosebleed he’d gotten. 

Vision blurry, the Doctor squinted across the clearing and nearly choked on his breath as he saw Varron pull a wicked knife from his pockets. The hunter aimed at Rose and threw, and with a shout the Doctor was running to intercept what, in the light of the moon, was obviously a silver dagger. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I’d like some help here guys. As there will hopefully someday come a time in a different book of the series when I will do the Human Nature/Family of Blood storyline, and in general the Doctor’s pseudonym will show up when going undercover...
> 
> Well, I have a conundrum. And that conundrum is that the Fifth Doctor does not in any way look like a ‘John Smith’ to me. I know what I want to change the surname to (*cough cough* Tyler *cough*) but I’m having trouble with changing the first name. I’ve got a list of my top three (in order of how much I like them with one being highest and three being lowest) and really want some input. The name wouldn’t come up often, but it’s just this thing where whenever I hear ‘John Smith’ I see a fobwatched Tenth Doctor or a very distracted Second Doctor that let Jamie pick it on a whim so it doesn’t work well in my head. I also, unfortunately, can’t use the easy fix by calling him ‘Johnathan Lungbarrow’ because I like to use that for a fobwatched or Human AU Eighth Doctor and thus associate it in that respect. Again, this name wouldn’t come up often save for Human Nature/Family of Blood, but I would greatly enjoy having a new one...
> 
> Anyway, here are the top three names I am considering changing the first name alias to. Please be advised that I selected them coming from the angle that Rose was the one suggesting it in a cheeky conversation that the Doctor decided to follow up on. Don’t be shy to comment on them and tell me which you like best. 
> 
> 1\. Evander (Specifically alluding to the Greek/Roman lore hero who was an Arcadian who founded the city of Pallantium on the site where Rome would one day be built. I just really like the name and the ‘Arcadian’ tie-in)  
2\. Xander (shortened from Alexander. Slightly more mainstream substitute for my no. 1)  
3\. Matthew (as a nod to the Big Finish story ‘Zagreus’ character Matthew Townsend)
> 
> EDIT (05/10/2020): I have settled on a name. It will be revealed in plot later in the story. Thanks loads for everyone who was involved!


	21. Monsters of Gokroth IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, two chapters for this update. This is the second, as promised and delivered. Enjoy.
> 
> WARNING: Mild theme of past alcoholism at the end. Definitely Hurt/Comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PART 4 of 4
> 
> This will be important later, I swear. You’ll understand soon why it is, but this is purely for reader visualization. Billie Piper’s Ages (discounting months):  
-2005 pilot ‘Rose’- 23  
-2006 ‘Doomsday’ - 24  
-2008 ‘Journey’s End’ - 26  
-2013 ‘Day of the Doctor’ - 31
> 
> Please also note that Peter Davison was 30 when he became the Fifth Doctor.

_Time often moves in mysterious and strange ways. For a Time Lord, even more so. _

So, while the Doctor was aware that 2.00350124973 seconds had passed since he’d jumped in between Rose’s unconscious form and the silver throwing knife, it didn’t feel like it. A spike of pain mixed with another wave of adrenaline and put everything into a unique perspective. He felt like it took hours for the blade to slice fully across his arm before skewing off the bone and embedding itself into the nearest tree, for him to cry out in pain on reflex and drop to the ground clutching at the elbow to avoid further injuring the lower arm. But it was instantaneous for Rose, out of a stone cold coma, to be fully awake across the clearing with her fangs wrapped around Varron’s throat. 

Everything outside of his immediate world of focus froze in incrementally slow motion as normal time carried on. Varron’s single steely blue-grey eye was blazing amidst an odd sort of choking triumphant smirk as he twitched in Rose’s jaws, her growl low and rumbling like thunder as blood slowly seeped into the soil in very tiny droplets from where her teeth were digging into skin.

“Animals,” Varron rasped. “Instinct- only.”

“She’s protecting me against you,” the Doctor retorted sourly, wincing as he rose back to a stand and slowly walked over to tower above the man lying prostrate in the dirt. Rose met his gaze, her eyes holding an unspoken question in them, and he bowed his head. Her grip released to secure itself more properly on the collar of Varron’s coat rather than entirely let go. She was all but sitting on his chest to pin him in place. “I’m part of her pack. That makes me family.” 

A sharp inhale of breath and the dawning of understanding crossed the Doctor’s features as he knelt back on his heels to be much closer to Varron’s face. 

“Your father killed a member of that Wolf’s pack, didn’t he?” He asked softly, fingering the edge of the hunter’s cloak so that there was no doubt in anyone’s mind what he was talking about. “What happened?” 

“The savages had been preying on our hunting grounds for ages and ages,” Varron spat. “We had been told by the preceding frontiersmen what they were, what their nature was. That they would be gone with the first great snow. But it was early summer, and my father had had enough. He followed the abomination back to its lair and slew it while it slept.” 

A wild gleam entered his remaining eye. 

“She was full to bursting with twins,” he growled. “And her mate took revenge. He killed my mother first, and then came for me. My father stood between me and him, and he killed him. I took up the knife and avenged my father. But I will never forget the savagery in the way that beast attacked my mother, the way he tore my father to pieces.” 

“Your father killed a pregnant woman and her unborn children in cold blood rather than talk with her like civilized people to resolve the dispute,” the Doctor hissed, drawing in close. His jaw was taut with anger, an anger that burned deep and molten in eyes that held nothing of what they had seen back as they usually did. Those eyes were so terrifyingly alien in nature that Varron swallowed nervously and instinctually tried to move away, impossible with his throat so close to Rose’s mouth. 

“Her mate killed my mother in return,” Varron reminded him acerbically. “An eye for an eye. A mate for a mate. _A child for a child_.”

“It was wrong. But embarking on a vendetta in the memory of a man who was a murderer doesn’t in any way justify what you’ve done since that day. Does it?” The Doctor’s fingers bunched in Varron’s shirt and Rose’s grip tightened further, the fabric of the coat pressing against his windpipe. “_Does it!?_”

“Perhaps not, but I will not apologize for my sins,” Varron chuckled darkly. “I know I’ll burn in Hell. Where will you be, Doctor? Will you join me?”

Rose abruptly let him go and his back landed in the mud with a wet _thwack _as she paced in front of the Doctor, coming between the two men, and growled pointedly. After doing so she turned, gently grabbed the cuff of the Doctor’s jacket in her mouth, and tugged. The message was clear.

_He’s not worth the time. _

“Let’s get you to the castle so Maleeva can fix you up,” the Doctor muttered with a last glare over his shoulder for the old hunter before walking toward the path.

~§§~

“Come to finish the job, milady?” Varron laughed as Mags approached. She growled at him, flashing her teeth, before turning her back on him. She spared only a wince for his screams as the leopard-lizard creature tore him to shreds behind her and walked on toward the castle. She had friends to protect, and with Rose’s Wolf form and the Doctor on their way she was no longer needed in the clearing. The Kind would take over from there. 

~§§~

The Doctor let out a soft chirp of alarm as he and Rose descended the steps of the castle to Maleeva’s laboratory, hurrying over to inspect her human form lying unconscious on a work table and scanning her with his sonic. After a few moments he pocketed the device and glared at Maleeva, who for once had the good sense to cower in the corner. 

“Do you see what you’ve done?” He asked. Rose’s Wolf form whimpered and cowered under the table her human form was on. His voice was low, soft, and measured. He was perfectly still, his hands in his pockets and his clenched jaw ever so slightly tilted upward. Shoulders were tensed and thrown back. In short, he was absolutely furious and that anger was festering away underneath the surface. Much like pressure cookers, if left to simmer for far too long that anger would eventually explode violently outward in a sudden onslaught of manic energy and clipped, harsh loud words. 

She’d never seen him so angry before, really. It was... unnerving. 

“I trusted Varron too much,” Maleeva murmured in a very small voice. “And I am so, _so _sorry for what has been done to your friend. I- I’ve managed to stabilize her human half and repurposed my equipment to form a fusion device rather than a separator. Everything is prepared.” 

“Then _fix. Her._” 

It was at that moment that Mags came in, clothing ripped and dirty and looking entirely exhausted, but she was none the worse for wear overall and her shoulders slumped in relief as she watched Wilric and Gor maneuver the two halves of Rose into the machine. 

“Varron is dead,” she said quietly, coming to stand by the Doctor’s side, taking a nearby medical kit and using a dermal regenerator on the gash on his arm. He let out a soft sigh of relief and nodded slightly in response. “The Kind killed him.”

“Couldn’t have happened to a nicer chap,” he muttered. 

“That doesn’t sound like you,” Mags retorted, raising an eyebrow in surprise as she applied a soft brace for any potential fracture bone and stepped away. 

“Yes, well...” his gaze was dark as the machinery hummed to life. “The stakes were different this time. He hurt my friend. My... well. My family, I suppose. If that’s what a pack is to your kind. I don’t react well to things like that.”

“Sure she’s your friend?” When the Doctor turned ever so slightly to look at her he was genuinely confused.

“What else would she be?” He asked. Mags sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, but said nothing as they returned their attention to the machine. 

It was practically crackling with energy as the gears turned and the equipment moved, the two pieces of Rose being disassembled at the atomic level in a bright glaring flare of light to stitch back together into one person. It was over in a matter of seconds, and the Doctor was there to scoop her into his arms and carry her back to the table before she could fall from the machine. He gave her a quick scan with the sonic and sighed in relief, shoulders slumping with release of tension. 

“Doctor?” Rose murmured, voice cracking as she slowly came to. “Where-“

“What do you remember?” He whispered. Her brow furrowed and her nose scrunched a tiny bit in that way she did when trying to puzzle something out.

“Everything,” she finally said decisively. “Both versions of me. ‘S all... jumbled up in here, but ‘s not confusing or anything just kinda weird.” She blinked up at him and noted his apprehensive expression. “Am I okay now? You’re looking kind of... worried.”

“The process tore you apart at the atomic level and then stitched you back together again into two bodies,” the Doctor explained, letting out a breath and leaning against the edge of the table. “You’re healing, but there was some... permanent damage. Your human body was failing without the Wolf virus, and the instability first attacked your telomeres, shortening them.” 

Rose stared at him uncomprehendingly for a few moments before her eyes widened in understanding. 

“I don’t look nineteen anymore, do I?” She asked. He shook his head. 

“Nor do you appear it physiologically, either. Based on the sonic, I’d assume you were twenty-seven. Biologically, that is.” 

“Anybody got a mirror?” Rose asked, looking pointedly at the room at large. Maleeva, who had been hovering out of the way, jumped and grabbed one. Rose blinked at her reflection before shrugging and setting it down. “Oh, that’s more than okay.”

“Is it really, though?” The Doctor asked flatly, raising an eyebrow. Rose nodded. 

“Yeah. Always been complaining people treat me like a kid. And I’m not, so. Twenty-seven’s a good age. Decent. Still look young, but with some maturity thrown in.” 

“Well if you’re happy... he muttered, rolling his eyes and sighing. She hummed as she swung her legs over the edge of the table and gingerly tested their strength, smiling as she stood but dutifully leaning a bit on his arm when she wobbled slightly. “Can we _please _go now? I never liked this place.”

“Yeah, I’m beginning to hate it too,” she admitted, patting his coat sleeve. “Let’s go home, Doctor.” 

“What about the Kind, or the village?” Mags asked, coming over to them. “They deserve to know the truth.” 

“Maleeva can take care of that,” the Doctor said, waving his free hand dismissively. “For once I jut want to be gone.”

“No, but-“ Mags sighed and started over. “What I mean is, we need to get both groups together so she can tell them. After all, the village won’t want to be anywhere near the Kind and the Kind won’t want to be anywhere near Maleeva.”

“As a, as a um, a villager, I can definitely say that’s right,” Wilric chipped in quietly, nervously shifting from foot to foot. His eyes were wide and scared. “Was I really like one of those things, once? We we all?” 

The impatience in the Doctor’s stance melted as his eyes softened and he sighed. Rose leant her head on his shoulder with a small knowing smile and he muttered a few chiming words up to the ceiling, the TARDIS refusing to translate them, before he nodded. 

“Fine. Mags, Wilric. Work on convincing the village. Rose and I will convince the Kind to approach the fence. Not come into the village mind, but come close. Sound like a plan?” 

“I think we can do that,” Mags agreed, smiling. 

It took longer than anyone would have wished for the setup to take place, but eventually they were listening to Maleeva try and unite two peoples separated by circumstance. Wilric was quietly affirming everything she said to his mother Trella, the woman slowly coming around. It helped that the bear creature, the leader of the Kind, had been her husband beforehand. 

“I think they’re gonna be okay,” Rose decided quietly, her smile strained and tired. She patted the Doctor on the shoulder and made to walk in the direction of the TARDIS. “I’ll be inside.”

“And I’m staying out here waiting for something because...?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Mags,” Rose said simply. “She’s stranded here unless we give her a lift. And, I dunno... maybe she’d like to travel with us for a while.”

“She said no last time,” he reminded her. 

“Yeah, but since then her... _condition_... has gotten more out of control. And, seeing as my presence calms her and you’re not averse to Wolves...” 

“...Ah,” he murmured, understanding lighting his face. He smiled and squeezed her shoulder gently. “You must be exhausted, Rose. Go on inside, and I’ll talk to her. Get going as fast as possible to drift in the Vortex for a few hours.” He sighed, frame slumping with fatigue as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “It’s been a long day and even I’m looking forward to a good sleep.”

“Thought you were about due for that,” Rose laughed before slipping away. His gaze followed her until she was out of sight and only then did he move to find Mags in the crowd. 

“This has certainly been an interesting experience,” the Doctor murmured quietly as he slid into a narrow spot beside her. Mags glanced over at him and sighed. 

“Yes, it has. I can’t say I particularly like this planet, Doctor.” She shook her unkempt mane of hair as water drizzled and soaked it through. “Too wet, to mysterious, too... everything.”

“Rose and I were wondering if you’d like a lift somewhere else,” he said casually, fingers scrunching in his pockets. He hadn’t bothered to pull them out when he’d walked over. “Or, if you’d like, you could travel with us for a while.”

“You really mean that?” Mags gasped, eyes shining with surprise and happiness. It was infectious, and the Doctor smiled in response. “Yes! Yes, thank you! I- let me say goodbye to Wilric quickly, and then, and then we can go wherever!” He grinned as she dashed off, watching a tender farewell between the two. Wilric had had a bad crush, it seemed, and !aga was very graciously letting him down gently. 

After a few minutes they began walking toward the TARDIS.

“Where is Rose?” Mags asked, curious. 

“Already on board,” the Doctor replied with a shrug, not bothering to pull out his key because she would have left it unlocked for him. Sure enough, the door opened without any resistance.

“Is she going to be okay?” Mags asked quietly as the doors of the TARDIS closed against the foggy world of Gokroth. She blinked at the interior size of the ship, mouth hanging open slightly, but made no effort to comment on the obvious.

“Eventually,” the Doctor murmured after a few moments, not looking up from the console as he sent them to drift in the Vortex. The TARDIS chirped softly and he ran his fingers over the edge in a gentle caress. “Thank you, Dear. I’ll go check in.” 

“You talk as if your ship is alive.”

“She is,” he explained, turning to lean against the console with his ankles crossed and arms braced. “TARDISes are grown, not built. They can’t speak as we do but being her pilot for such a long time means that I’ve come to understand the general meaning behind her moods. She seems to like you well enough. Enough to help you when you lose your way and provide some very nice accommodations, I think. Lucky you.” 

“And just now, she was telling you Rose needed you?”

“Yes.” 

“Well, what are you standing around here for?” Mags scolded, eyebrows arching in amusement as she shooed him toward the door. “I can look after myself, go!” The Doctor flashed her a desperately grateful smile before racing out of sight and Mags shook her head in exasperation. 

His steps slowed as he followed the flickering lights of his ship, and he stopped altogether at the door to the galley. It was ajar, and there was a trickle of what smelled strongly like whiskey and broken glass smeared on the floor. The Doctor swallowed, unease settling in the pit of his stomach. He took a moment to collect himself before easing the door the rest of the way open.

“Rose?” She was sitting in the dark against the wall farthest from the table upon which a bottle of amber whiskey was open and sitting. A broken glass was shattered in pieces against the opposite wall closest to the door and there was a pool of the liquid that had ended up there after she’d thrown the tumbler full. 

“Sorry for the mess,” she muttered, running her fingers through her hair and letting her head fall with an audible thud against the cabinets. 

“You didn’t drink any did you?” He asked sharply, ignoring the glass as he quickly crossed the room to kneel on his heels in front of her. Rose’s laugh was brittle and sharp as the shards of glass glinting on the floor.

“No. I can keep my centennial sobriety chip, thanks for asking.” Her voice lowered and became more pensive. “I got close, though. I’d poured myself a full glass of the strongest thing you had in the cupboard and had some in my mouth before it registered. Spit it out, threw the glass...”

“I don’t care about the mess,” the Doctor muttered, standing and grabbing the whiskey before liberally pouring all of it into the sink. 

“...That was expensive,” Rose pointed out in a very small voice. 

“The entire _cellar _is expensive,” he muttered, tossing the bottle in the bin. “But that won’t stop me from ejecting every single last bottle in it into the first black hole we come across.” He moved to sit beside her on the floor and sighed when she flinched away, pointedly grabbing her arm in a none too gentle manner and pulling her flush against his chest. Neither spoke for several minutes.

“A century and a few decades in change, and I still...” she trailed off, swallowed, and began again in a shaking voice. “It’s hard. I’ll never be rid of it, no matter how long I live.”

“Which is why I’m eliminating the temptation by tomorrow at the latest,” he shushed soothingly. “I don’t like alcohol enough in my current incarnation to keep any of it around. I barely order anything alcoholic in our travels to begin with, let alone indulge in a sherry in the evenings.”

“Which incarnation did?”

“My third. Grade A connoisseur that one.” A touch of pride inflected into the conversation. “Time was, I could tell you the brand, vineyard, year, and month just by taste testing... benefits of superior senses compared to humans. My first and second could easily have joined the Temperance Movement. My fourth liked a bit of brandy, but not in any real amount. As for this me... I’d be good with a little something every other decade and not feel any sense of deprivement. Good cup of tea over anything else any day.” 

“I’m such a mess,” Rose muttered, dropping her face against his shoulder in sheer abject embarrassment. 

“Well, so am I,” he said with strained cheerfulness. 

“No, it- this is, like, my second breakdown in as many months.”

“That merely means I’m well due for next week.”

“Don’t joke about that,” she sighed, thumping him on the chest with her hand. “With your luck it’ll happen.” The Doctor made a point of maneuvering his facial expression into a greatly exaggerated grimace and Rose flashed a tiny, genuine smile. “Thanks.” 

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah.” A period of far more comfortable silence than the previous one ensued and Rose simply relaxed in his casual embrace as he stroked her hand with his thumb in a repetitive, soothing gesture of comfort.

“What brought this on then? And I mean, specifically,” he asked, concerned. “Is it the aging?” Rose smiled and suppressed a laugh.

“God, no. That- that is a huge relief. Twenty-five is a lot better for being taken seriously than nineteen.” The smile dimmed. “It’s... I’m a Wolf. And that’s such a part of who I am that it was killing me to be separated from it. I just... I don’t want what defines me to be that, y’know? I’m more than that. But as far as most everyone would be concerned if they knew what I was, it’s the only thing that matters. No one would care that- that I struggle with Shakespeare but absolutely love Robert Louis Stevenson. Or that I hate candy floss but love Pixie Sticks. That I’m right handed but can write with my left because I broke my wrist when I was four on the playground. 

“I have all these... _little things _that define me,” she finished. “But all anyone ever cares about is that sometimes I’ve got fangs and fur. And that puts them off from trying to get to know me unless they knew me before they found out.”

“Not me,” the Doctor pointed out. Rose bit her lip as she looked him in the eye. 

“I think you’re forgetting those first two months where whenever I shifted you all but jumped out of your skin and kept waiting for me to try and eat you,” she reminded him with a light nudge to the arm. He winced and she laid her head back on his shoulder. “No hard feelings, Doctor. I think I’ve more than proven these recent months that nobody’s perfect.” 

“Perfection is subjective to the person beholding it,” the Doctor sniffed. “I personally think perfection is attained through a mix of natural flaws and beauty.”

“Your idea of perfection includes flaws?” Rose asked skeptically. He nodded. “That explains so much...”

“Hey now.” They both sighed, fidgeting on the uncomfortable cool linoleum of the galley floor. “I think we need some cocoa and a pajama reading session in the library,” he suggested. “What do you say? A couple of showers to get the forest muck off us, then meeting up later?”

“But the floor-“

“I’ll handle it,” he assured her, standing and helping her up after him. “I want to dump the cellar anyway.”

“Thank you,” Rose whispered, hugging him tightly and inhaling his scent on his jumper before extricating herself to go and get cleaned up. The Doctor sighed as he watched her leave before cleaning up the mess on the floor and taking a quick detour to the console room to delete the cellar. The TARDIS, for once, complied without issue, more than happy to do something that benefited Rose as was her standard modus operandi. That done, he went and got his shower before changing into a pair of nondescript pajama pants and a plain white cotton tee. 

Rose was already in the library under a blanket when he got there and he moved to stoke the fire back to life before joining her.

“I have a question, and you don’t have to answer it.”

“My absolute favorite type of question!” The Doctor retorted with false cheer, beaming facetiously over at Rose from where he was crouching by the fireplace and poking the logs with the iron poker. He then replaced the tool and joined her on the library couch, the smile becoming genuine when she rolled her eyes and handed him a mug of hot cocoa. 

They were both damp from showering the mud of the forest off of them and, feeling pleasantly cozy in their respective jimjams, were ready to retire for the evening to read. Mags was presumably getting used to her new quarters on board the ship or exploring; as the TARDIS seemed vaguely fond of her either option was very likely. 

“I’m actually bein’ serious for once, you daft idiot.”

“Redundancy does nothing to bolster your case,” he pointed out as he took a sip of his beverage and purred softly in pleasure, the sound suspiciously close to that of a cat’s, eyes fluttering closed. “Mm...”

“My question has to do with physiology.” Rose bit her lip to hide her grin, bringing her mug up to cover her mouth entirely, when a singular blue eye opened to a slit to eye her warily from the other end of the sofa. 

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” She made herself more comfortable and then dove in. “My pheromones. You didn’t react to them. Every other male in what _felt _like a five mile radius reacted to it, but not you. Why is that? Does your species not...”

“Oh, my species most definitely does,” the Doctor muttered ruefully with a grimace, shifting on the cushions in discomfort for the discussion topic.

“So you just didn’t find me at all attractive when I dumped all those pheromones into the air, then.”

“No.” His eyes widened as he opened and closed his mouth several times over, tripping over his backpedaling so quickly that it appeared like his tongue had gotten tied up in his mouth. Rose’s eyes twinkled with mounting amusement as he tried to dig himself out of the crater he’d accidentally landed in. “That’s not- you- I didn’t find you attractive. In the slightest. And by that I mean no more than usual. Because you’re always attractive. For a human. No, wait, that- that came out wrong- I-“

“You think I’m always pretty, so I didn’t catch your attention,” Rose rescued, unable to stifle a laugh when his entire face went red and he mutely nodded. “Doctor, it’s okay. I think you’re pretty too.” She reached across the distance and patted his foot, as it was the nearest thing to her. “See? No special hidden messages there. Just statements of fact. _Relax. _I’m not looking for a yes or no answer, I’m just curious. No double meanings. Pure, honest fact. That’s all.” 

Incrementally, the Doctor relaxed. 

“Warn a person before you ask a question like that,” he chided, sipping embarrassedly at his hot cocoa. He sighed and ruffled the hair at the back of his head, carefully choosing his next words before speaking again. He was most _definitely not _going to make the same mistake twice in one conversation. “But the answer to your question is more complex than any prior notice I may have taken in regards to attractiveness. My species, as you know, are touch telepathic. And while full connection requires contact with the temples, we can get empathic awareness through any other sort of skin on skin contact. Like hand-holding.”

His gaze was suddenly serious as he regarded her. 

“I didn’t react physically, Rose, because telepathy trumps physicality every single time for my species. And while your pheromones dictated I should treat you more considerately or amorously or however you want to put it, the complete and total mortification you were projecting across our meshed fingers as you dragged me out of that tavern immediately negated those natural instincts in favor of my protective streak. You were upset, and my only aim was to fix whatever it was that was making you upset, because I can’t stand it when my friends hurt.”

“That...” Rose trailed off, took in a breath, and tilted her head slightly as she stared at him with wide, soft eyes. “That is really sweet. And really, greatly appreciated. Thank you.” The Doctor shrugged, clearly embarrassed. “No, I mean it. Thank you. ‘S been a long time since anyone actually cared about me for me, and not for who they saw me as. ‘S nice.”

“...Well, millennia of ancestral adaptation says ‘you’re welcome,’” he replied, squirming in his seat. Rose smiled and shook her head, fond exasperation clearly evident in her features, but she made no protest when he snatched up his book and slipped his half-moon specs onto his nose, closing her eyes to listen to his soft tones as he described the kingdom of Landover. 

After several minutes of this there was a pause in the narrative as something finally dawned on him.

“...Wait, you think I’m _pretty!?_” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UP NEXT: THE GOD COMPLEX
> 
> Does anyone know what book series the kingdom of Landover comes from? Anyone? Please tell me I’m not the only one to have been blessed by finding this six book series. 
> 
> Well, if you have no idea what I’m talking about and want a good read to survive quarantine, I highly suggest ‘Magic Kingdom of Landover’ by Terry Brooks (any Shannara fans may find that name familiar). They follow a depressed Chicago lawyer who bought a magic land in a Christmas catalogue only to find out it was real, and now he has to navigate being king with a very inept court wizard who turned the scribe into a dog and then only managed to half turn the poor man back again... good times, good times...
> 
> Alcoholism is widely considered by many organizations a disease, and it stays with someone for the rest of their life. Even if the urge to drink fades with time, the impact and influence it once had will always be a dark spot in that person’s life. I mentioned earlier that Rose had a dark past with drugs and alcohol when she couldn’t cope with her immortality, but I wanted to stress that the reason she doesn’t touch any of it is because she was once addicted and she doesn’t want to fall into old, bad habits. Her life is finally going well for her again, and she’s clinging on to that afraid it will be ripped from her. She does a great job of covering that insecurity up, but of course the Doctor - Master of Evasion Tactics Extraordinaire - would recognize that and tease out the real issues at hand. This has been mainly him healing Rose so far, but we’ll get some of her healing him soon. Never say I’m not fair in dispersing trauma... 


	22. The God Complex I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PART 1 OF 2
> 
> I cannot even BEGIN to tell you guys how excited I am to have finally gotten to this particular episode. It wasn’t my favorite in the show, but it gives me a perfect excuse to showcase some great character development and as a result it’s become one of my favorites for this book...

Mags wasn’t up yet, which was to be expected, but it surprised the Doctor that Rose wasn’t about to meet him for tea, toast, and jam that morning when he walked into the galley. She’d had a rough day of it and a subsequently horrible night beforehand, but... she was always there. Without fail, every morning, she made tea and he toasted and jammed the bread. 

Worried things had been far worse than she’d let on, he went in search of her and dutifully followed the suggestive directions his ship was giving until he arrived at a nondescript door. The main portion was covered in frosted glass with a creamy white wood trim, and it looked so out of place against the other plain wood doors in the corridor that he _knew _it hadn’t been around before. Brow furrowing, he pushed it open and gaped.

The TARDIS had created a massive full-scale gymnasium and obstacle course complete with a foam pit and equipment scattered all over the place. The center of the room sported a wrestling mat with fencing equipment stored neatly off to the side as well, indicating the room was multi-purpose. The ceiling vaulted so high with beams and bars climbing higher and higher above it that the mere thought of going up that far made him nauseous; the last time he was at a great height flashed painfully through his eyes and becoming shrouded in a foggy golden haze at the end. 

“Morning, Doctor!” Rose’s voice echoed down from way above and the Doctor let out a tiny whimper of unease when he spotted her, exclaiming in terror when she all but hurled herself into the air and landed in the foam pit. “You okay? Looking a little... well, ‘the color of ash’ is a really good description, actually.”

She climbed from the pit with all the grace the horrible thing afforded - which was practically none - and frowned at him as he looked up at the ceiling again.

“Are you- are you afraid of heights?” She asked after a few moments. He nodded tensely.

“My Ah... I never had a problem with it before... Uh... I regenerated into this body after my fourth incarnation fell to his death, and at the best of times it’s a near-crippling anxiety now,” he admitted uneasily. She nodded. 

“Don’t worry about me. I specifically asked the TARDIS to make me the best course ever. I was in gymnastics when I was a kid, decided a few weeks ago I wanted to get back into it. She completed it this morning.”

“How nice of her,” the Doctor muttered miserably, fixing his gaze on the objects on the floor to take his mind off the terrifying prospect of the heights. Rose bit her lip to hide a smile and let him peruse the place, following silently along at his side. They paused next to the wrestling mat, his fingers grazing the fencing lances. “And the uh, two person activities I see before me?” 

“Hmm? Oh.” Rose shrugged, pulling her hair out of its messy ponytail and braiding it unconcernedly. “I like to practice my sets every once in a while.”

“Sets of what?”

“I learned several styles of martial arts in my travels,” she explained. “I dabbled with a few but really only found one I really really liked. A tiny bit of Hung Gar Kuan, which was too rigid for me. Tai Chi Chuan was too fluid. I sorta liked Ba Gua Zhang, but it was a really defensive style. My favorite is Northern Shaolin Kung Fu, which is very energetic and more aggressive.”

“Why those four styles in particular?” The Doctor asked, tilting his head slightly. Rose shrugged.

“No reason. I didn’t bother to study all of them, but I mastered Shaolin Kung Fu when I found out how much I liked it. Still, gotta keep practicing to keep the skills sharp.” 

“I used to be very good at Venusian Aikido,” the Doctor sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Unfortunately it requires a height and body build I no longer possess to be truly effective, and I seem to have lost all talent for it besides. To make matters even more difficult.” 

“You should try Ba Gua,” Rose suggested after analyzing him for a few moments. “It’s almost purely defensive in execution and uses the opponent’s own strength against them.” 

“I might look into it,” he conceded, flashing her a smile. “But only if I have a sparring partner.” 

“I’ll go easy on you until you get to my level,” Rose said sweetly, patting him on the shoulder and sauntering out of the gymnasium. She broke into a run when he let out an exclamation of mock-affront and chased after her, laughing as she headed straight for the galley and her morning tea. They all but crashed into Mags as she scrambled out of the center of the room and ended up perching on the nearest counter, her hair bushed out in surprise.

“What-“

“Morning!” Rose said cheerfully, going straight over to the teakettle and setting it up to boil. The Doctor reached around her to pull down their mugs and a spare, dropping them on the counter along with the plates and wordlessly accepting the bread in return. Mags watched this obliviously intimate dance with wide eyes and no small degree of exasperation as she eased herself off the counter and cautiously explored the contents of the fridge and pantry, emerging a few moments later with a box of cereal and some milk. 

It was morning one of her stay with the Doctor and Rose and she ate her cereal in slow, languid movements as she observed them interact with one another. They occupied a space barely large enough for one person let alone two despite the size of the room being more than adequate for a small herd of cows to comfortably reside in and fluidly worked around one another with practiced ease. There were light touches of fingers to arms in affection, joking quips of conversation. It was so sweetly domestic it made Mags’ teeth ache. 

Hilariously, Rose didn’t seem to be aware of the more than platonic mood in which the Doctor went about this. Even more hilariously, the Doctor seemed neither aware of the depthless love in her eyes nor the subconscious romantic nature of his own actions. In typical fashion, the obvious was missed. They were the best of friends to be sure, but this went beyond that. 

“The two of you are so cute,” Mags muttered aloud. She discarded a rinsed cereal bowl in the sink and picked up her morning coffee, returning to the table to sip at it with leisurely enjoyment. Rose blushed as bright a red as her namesake and the Doctor rolled his eyes in a good-natured display of long-suffering exasperation. Mags responded by slowly letting her forehead drop to the table. Her goal of successful matchmaking was going to be much harder than she’d thought it would be. 

“Any idea where we should go today?” Rose asked as she moved toward the table, words muffled by the piece of toast sticking out of her mouth. 

“I was thinking we set the controls to random, see where we end up,” the Doctor murmured absently, pulling the toast from her mouth without comment and setting it back on her plate as he used a thin tablet to flick through the latest news developments on Gallifrey. He only ever bothered with the universal section and the big political changes, but contrary to popular belief he _did _make sure to stay in the loop. Since there wasn’t anything of particular interest that morning he dropped the tablet in a little slot in the table - which appeared to be its main residence as it fit so snugly - and took a sip of his tea. His eyes fluttered closed as he sighed in appreciation before biting into a piece of jam-covered toast. 

“Oh, we haven’t done that in a while,” Rose agreed with a nod. At Mags’ confused look she hastened to explain. “Our ship’s navigation has a randomizer installed into it. Flick the switch and it generates a random set of coordinates to go to. The TARDIS, in general, is kind enough to restrict the places to non-toxic atmosphere and such but we really never know where we’re going to end up.”

“I thought you said you never ended up where you wanted to go anyway, because the Doctor was such a bad-“

“Anyway, what do you think? Randomizer?” Rose interrupted nervously as the Doctor shot her a glare over his mug. 

“Sounds good,” Mags said after a few moments with a shrug, pushing away from her seat and standing. “I’ll get dressed for the day then.”

“The TARDIS will help you find the wardrobe room,” the Doctor offered, still glaring at Rose. “Feel free to take anything you like back to your bedroom.”

“Thank you.” 

“I am _not _a bad pilot,” he muttered sullenly once she was gone. Rose bit her lip and fidgeted in her seat, staring at the ceiling. 

After setting the coordinates to random and sending them hurtling through the Vortex, the TARDIS landed with a wheeze and a thud in what appeared on the scanner to be a commercial building of some sort. They exited promptly, Rose locking the door behind her as the Doctor took in their surroundings. 

“Looks like an Earth hotel from the 1980s, but it isn’t,” he murmured, peering over the stair banister into a square of open space below. “Very good reproduction, though.” 

“I’ll say,” Rose muttered, nose wrinkling in distaste. The hotel seemed to consist of unpolished medium light oak trim and gaudy, patterned bright red carpet. The walls were white with an equally gaudy floral pattern on them that had the misfortune of clashing with the carpet, and the light fixtures were dated even further back than the 80s it seemed. The Doctor glanced at her, picking up the distaste in her tone of voice, and grinned. 

“Yes... as décor goes, not the best decade. But better than the two that came before it. Even then, Rose. Surely, you can appreciate the detail put into the reproduction.” 

“It... is really good,” she conceded reluctantly before muttering under her breath in addendum. “Although ‘good’ is subjective...”

“Why would anyone make a building that looks like this?” Mags asked in confusion as they moved down the stairs to the reception desk. The technology was dated appropriately, sitting on a faux granite countertop amongst linoleum badly disguised as wood and walls with black tiling behind the desk. “It’s very ugly.”

“See? And she’s never been to the 1980s!” Rose crowed, pointing at the Doctor. “You’re just heaping on the nostalgia.”

“Am not,” the Doctor sniffed, grimacing at their surroundings. “It’s extremely ugly. What I find so beautiful is the dedication that went into _making _it so extremely ugly. _That _takes commitment.” His attention was diverted to a potted plant. “Ooh. Is this real?” A quick sniff, as Rose and Mags laid eyes on a series of photographs on the wall. “No. But not plastic, either. Synthetic plant matter. Indistinguishable from the real thing unless you’re in the know. Oh, I’ve got chills.” 

“Yeah, me too, but for very different reasons,” Rose muttered. He raised an eyebrow as he turned toward her and immediately walked over, curious. The pictures were of seemingly random people from different times and places, some from Earth and others most definitely not. Under each picture was a name and a strange identifier afterward. There seemed to be no reason or correlation between the people and the identifier. “Tim Heath, ‘having his photo taken...’” 

“Uh, why would Paige Barnes have ‘other people’s socks’ under her picture?” Mags was unnerved. And a little bit grossed out. Now that she thought about it, other people’s socks _were _kind of... well. 

“That is a _very _strange thing to put in a picture,” the Doctor agreed. 

“Got a bloke with the word ‘Plymouth’ over here, of all things,” Rose added, having moved farther down the row.

“Lucy Hayward, ‘that brutal gorilla.’” The Doctor raised an eyebrow and frowned, stepping away from the wall to get a better look at the display overall and shoving his hands into his pockets. “Well, we did ask for _random _this morning. This takes the cake. And I, for one, would like some answers.” He reached over and tapped the bell for service on the receptionist’s desk, the loud chirp of the bell having barely begun echoing when three screaming people rounded the corner with hand-made weapons. 

Shouting began on both sides, the apparent aggressors shouting to see their hands or in the case of one individual waving a white handkerchief telling them he was surrendering. One of them was muttering about being back in reception. Mags and Rose were trying to assure the other people they were friendly, and the Doctor... well...

“Never been threatened by a chair leg before,” he murmured, then frowned. “Wait, no... no, that’s a lie. But it _is _strange that it’s happened twice...”

“Doctor, forget the chair leg,” Rose sighed, giving him a look. He shrugged, ambling toward the group with a soft but guarded smile and clearly showing them his hands. 

“Hey, everyone _shut up!_” The medical student exclaimed, annoyed. “Look, their pupils are dilated. They’re just as scared as we are. Either they’re stuck here like we are or they’re a part of it, in which case we’ll learn something.” Her gaze flicked over to the young man with messy hair and glasses who was eyeing Mags with terror. “Howie. Put the lamp _down.”_

“Now, I _have _been threatened by lamps on more than one occasion,” the Doctor chirped thoughtfully, shoving his hands into his pockets before smiling at the young woman. “Hello. I’m the Doctor. This is Rose and Mags. Who might you be?”

“Rita,” the student said slowly, eyeing him with interest. “This is Howie and... Gibbis.” 

“Visage en Rodentia,” the Doctor murmured, intrigued. “Combined with clothing style and pathological compulsion to surrender... would I be correct in surmising that your planet of origin is Tivoli?” 

“Yes, the most invaded planet in the galaxy,” Gibbis said proudly. He was almost entirely bald, his nose flat and rounded against his face with large buck teeth and flattened, pointed ears. “Our anthem is ‘Glory To [Insert Name Here].’” 

“Right... and, Howie, was it?” Rose asked sweetly. Howie blinked, eyes wide as he stared at her. “Why were you upset at being back at reception?”

“Uh, it- the- the walls, they move, change around,” he explained, flustered.

“As if the place were alive somehow, reconfiguring itself?” 

“Yeah.” He swallowed. “You’re pretty.” Rose smiled at him, eyes twinkling with amusement. 

“And you seem very nice,” she retorted, ignoring the way the Doctor’s head swung around as Howie relaxed. 

“Are you trapped here?” Mags asked, glancing around. “I’ve seen windows and doors...”

“They’re fake,” Rita explained. “Behind every door is a solid brick wall painted white. Behind every window curtain, same thing. But that’s not the end of it.” She shifted from foot to foot uneasily. “The rooms have... _things _in them.”

“Oh, _things_.” The Doctor beamed at her. “I am very much a _thing _type person.”

“He means ‘pack rat,’” Rose corrected, leaning forward conspiratorially and smirking when he shot her an affronted look. She bit her lip when she remembered Gibbis. “No offense.”

“None taken.”

“The rooms have... bad dreams, in them,” Rita finished. 

“Well that’s a mood killer if ever I heard one,” the Doctor muttered under his breath before drawing his hands out of his pockets and clapping them together. “Right then. How did you all get here?” 

“Work, just started my shift, must have passed out.”

“Blogging, next thing I know...” Howie trailed off helplessly. 

“Work as well,” Gibbis said calmly. He seemed to actually be enjoying himself a little bit, oddly enough. “I work in town planning, and we’re lining all the highways with trees so invading forces can march in the shade. It makes it nice for them.” 

“Yeah...” the Doctor turned slightly away from the Tivolian and exchanged an incredulous look with Rose before turning back around. “So, people snatched right in the middle of their day and dropped in a hotel that isn’t a hotel in the middle of nowhere. There’s bête noires in the bedrooms and a disturbing number of people who have come here prior, as evidenced by the pictures.” He picked up a Rubik’s Cube sitting on the reception desk and idly fiddled with it in his hands as he thought, not bothering to look down at it. “Apart from bad manners, there’s enough of a malevolent influence about this place to make my skin crawl.” He slammed the now-finished Rubik’s Cube onto the counter and shoved his hands back into his pockets as he leaned against it. “Have I missed anything?”

“Yeah, while we were talking the rooms shifted and the TARDIS isn’t upstairs anymore,” Rose said pointedly, jerking her thumb over her shoulder at the staircase. “Our scent trail got erased.” The Doctor’s eyes closed as he started rubbing at his temples and groaned. 

“Of course she is,” he sighed. “It’s absolutely par for the course where we’re concerned...”

“Sorry, what’s a TARDIS?” Howie asked, confused. 

“It stands for ‘Time And Relative Dimensions in Space,’” Rose explained. Howie’s eyes blew wide. 

“A time and space ship?” Rose nodded. “Right. Does that make you lot aliens then, like Gibbis here?”

“Rose isn’t, we are,” Mags clarified, pointing to the Doctor and herself in a back and forth motion.

“Hey, I’m more alien than human,” Rose protested with a smile. 

“Not this debate again,” the Doctor muttered exasperatedly, shoving off of the counter and bouncing on his heels. Howie whispered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘awesome’ and he frowned at the man before blinking and shaking his head. “Is there anyone else that came here with you, or is it just you three?” He asked. 

“There’s Joe, but he’s tied up right now,” Rita informed him with a faint smirk.

“What’s he doing?”

“No, I mean, he really _is _tied up.” Incomprehension hidden behind a polite smile was the response she got. “_Literally_.”

“..._Oh_.”

Rose really wasn’t sure what to make of the man tied up in a room full of laughing, creepy wooden ventriloquist dummies. She could feel something hovering at the edges of her telepathic awareness, something that, instead of being malevolent and cruel as she had expected, was instead tired and broken. It emanated from Joe in soft waves and tickled her mind, causing her to growl softly in the back of her throat and recoil to a safer position near the door. The Doctor paused when he heard the noise and glanced back at her but she merely shook her head. His telepathic shielding was too strong to even feel it; her species was geared toward high empathic sensitivity toward telepaths not a member of their kind and as a result she had no way to block it out. Nor was she in any danger of being overcome by it either, but still... 

Joe was sitting in one of the dining chairs at a table surrounded by the creepy dummies with his head lolling against the top of the backrest and his eyes flit about the room in unfocused interest. Having had some experience with substance abuse, Rose would have been suspicious that he was on something aside from the fact that he had no smell of chemicals wafting off of him. 

The Doctor approached him slowly across the room, the rest of the group seeming to like Rose’s idea of standing by the door and waiting there. 

“Joe?” He called quietly. “I don’t want to harm you. I’m the Doctor.”

“We’re going to die soon,” Joe chuckled. 

“Yes, well. This is why the front desk needs to keep up on their stock of pamphlets,” he quipped in sarcastic reply. He came to a stop in front of Joe’s table and simply stood there with his hands in his pockets, entirely at ease aside from the light tap of his foot. “Why are we all going to die, Joe?”

“We are his offering,” the man said happily, voice somewhat sing-song. The dummies all had their heads turned toward the pair and the amount of life injected into them was really putting Rose on edge. “You are not yet ready. None of you. You are raw. I once was raw.” Joe’s eyes fluttered close in bliss. “But then I found my room, and I understood. I saw.” 

“I’m very happy for you,” the Doctor whispered, eyes wide and concerned as he took slow, tentative steps closer. 

“Everyone has a room where they will receive enlightenment,” Joe sighed. His gaze suddenly became intense as they pinned the Time Lord in place. “Even you. Nothing else matters after seeing the light. Only Him.” He looked around the room in general and chuckled. “Like these things. I used to hate them. But now I find them hilarious.” Unstable laughter issued from his mouth as he chanted, “gottle ‘o gear, gottle o’ gear.” 

As one, the entire room of ventriloquist dummies started laughing and Rose darted forward. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck were bristling as she tugged the Doctor back. 

“Rose-“

“Somethin’s possessin’ him, and I don’t like it,” Rose hissed.

“You should listen to your friend Doctor,” Joe called happily. “He’s coming soon.”

“I’m not leaving him here,” the Doctor muttered. 

~§§~

“Why you four in particular?” The Doctor asked. It was clear he was speaking to no one in particular, so no one bothered to answer. They were lounging about the reception area with Joe, still tied to his chair, now conveniently able to be moved with a tiny trolley. “It makes no sense. This- this _entire place _makes no sense. I don’t like it.” His eyes snapped to Rose and it was a testament to the amount of time they’d spent together that she merely blinked in response to being the sole focus of his intense stare. “You said he was possessed. What did you mean?” 

“There’s a presence in this place,” she said slowly. “All I got was a purely empathic contact; it wouldn’t have registered past your shields. I, however...”

“Can’t ignore such signals,” the Doctor muttered, completing the sentence. “Well, that’s not at all terrifying. We need to find the TARDIS and get these people out of here.” 

“If it’s possible,” Mags pointed out. “But the problem is that we don’t know where it is. And Joe said that all of us have rooms. When he found his, the... whatever it is, it possessed him. We can’t just go searching through every single room.”

“Well, if one of us feels drawn to a specific room, we should just avoid it right?” Rita suggested. “Tell someone, and then _that _person can investigate.”

“You’re suggesting we split into pairs, but then who looks after Joe?” Howie asked. 

“I’m not suggesting pairs,” Rita scoffed. “I was suggesting we all go together, keep an eye out for one another. And we take turns pushing Joe. Since _you _were so concerned for his well-being, _you _do it.” 

“I’ll do it,” Gibbis said quickly. “That way if something attacks us I can surrender easily.” The entire room rolled their eyes at him. 

“Are you taking me to Him?” Joe asked softly. He had been placed behind the receptionist’s desk but within easy view, still on the trolly and ready to move.

“We’re securing you from him,” Rita said definitively. At this, Joe started screaming. Luckily, Howie found some duct tape. 

That was how they ended up traipsing down hallway after hallway with Howie spouting conspiracy theories to Rose - the only person he’d seemed to properly connect with and a fact that the Doctor disliked for reasons he didn’t have the leisure of time to analyze at present - with a deranged man tied to a chair on a trolley with his mouth taped shut. 

“See, Earth’s on a collision course and-“

“What year are you from?” Rose asked. Howie blinked, pushing his glasses higher up his nose. 

“2011. Why?”

“I’m from your future. Like, almost two hundred years minus a decade or three in your future. You live. It’s crowded, polluted, and terrible, but the Earth’s still there with humans messing it up.”

“Does that mean- does that mean all of my theories... are wrong?” 

“No. Just some of them. We can never be sure of anything, Howie. But we can always search for the truth all the same.” Rose smiled at him and the Doctor stopped abruptly to look at them out of the corner of his eye as she put her hand on his shoulder. “And, hey. Now you know that aliens and time travel are real. You disproved and proved your theories all in one day. Good on you, mate.” 

“I think we should-“ the Doctor stopped talking. He’d been distracted by Rose and Howie and as a result hadn’t seen the angry-looking middle-aged man in the white tank top and red shorts with the whistle round his neck step out of the nearest room. He _did _take notice when the man got in his face and started shouting. 

“You’ve forgotten your PE Kit again!?”

“I-“

“Right, that’s it! You’re doing it in your pants!” With that the door of the room slammed shut. The Doctor blinked, swallowed, and shook his head. 

“Well, that gives me unpleasant flashbacks,” he sighed, turning to look at Rose when he felt her hand on his shoulder. He caught sight of Howie opening a door behind them as if entranced. “Wait, don’t!”

Rose was there in milliseconds but still too slow to stop him. The door opened upon a room of giggling girls, prima donnas and obviously the popular kids at school. They all stopped giggling when when they caught sight of Rose and Howie in the doorway. 

“Oh, look girls,” one of them said in a simpering, snotty voice. She continued on, mimicking a stutter. “It’s H-H-Howie!”

“What’s ‘loser’ in K-K-K-Klingon?” Another snickered. 

“layerteS,” Rose snapped fluently, slamming the door in the girls’ faces. She drew a shaking Howie into a hug and patted his mess of hair as he buried his face against her shoulder. “I had girls like that at my school, too. I wasn’t one of them. Sucked to be me.”

“Th-t-they just- they just-“ 

“Hey, no need to explain yeah? We’ve all been bullied at school before I can guarantee it.” Rose bit her lip as he pulled away and sought to regain his composure. “Even aliens.”

“Yeah?”

“All the time, where I came from,” the Doctor muttered, caving to Rose’s pleading eyes to help her calm him down. “And for the record Howie, a person stutters because of something going on in their brain. So, for you to have overcome that, you had to retrain your mind to think differently. Don’t forget you made yourself think differently to overcome an obstacle. That takes a lot of work, and you should be proud.” 

Howie glanced between the two of them as they resumed their walk down the hallways. 

“You think?” He asked, unconvinced.

“We know,” Mags assured, patting him on the shoulder as she caught up and took Rose’s spot. Rose vacated it easily, walking a little ahead of them but glancing back with a smile. When Howie returned it the Doctor lengthened his stride to come up even with her, linking their fingers together and ignoring the confused look Rose was shooting at him. She let it go for a good few minutes, letting him lead her up the stairs and down another set of terribly decorated corridors, before speaking.

“What’s going on with you?” She whispered. The Doctor shrugged.

“I don’t like this place,” he murmured. “After you mentioned an empathic presence I let my shields down just enough to register them. They feel... odd. Not at all what I was expecting, to tell the truth.”

“Yeah...” Rose hummed thoughtfully before continuing. “I’m thinking that maybe I should put a barrier in Howie’s mind, help him fight whatever it is. Because after finding his room, that _thing _seems to be eyeing him like the next course.”

“You like Howie, don’t you?” Came the quiet reply. Her brow furrowed. It was almost _resigned_. 

“Well, yeah. He’s sweet, and insecure, and gentle, and he reminds me...” she trailed off again, her grip on his hand tightening. “I had this friend in school, right? And up until then everyone in primary had been really nice to him. His mum had died when he was four, so it was just him and his dad. I only had my mum, so we got along. But when we got to secondary, we merged with another district to make a larger school? And the other kids didn’t know ‘im. They just thought he was weird. He wasn’t, but he had this thing with his eyes were when he got stressed out they’d cross and he’d blink like crazy. ‘Cause he saw his mum stabbed for her purse in the street right in front of ‘im. And they _teased _him, so badly...” the Doctor squeezed her hand in comfort, silently encouraging her to continue. “He ended up committing suicide that same year. Couldn’t take it. I got suspended for two months for beating the tar out of the bloke that tormented him worst.”

“He reminds you of your friend.”

“Yeah.” 

“We’re you and he...”

“Hm? Oh. No. It would’ve been like dating my cousin or something weird like that. He was my mate Shareen’s twin brother. I just...” something caught her eye and she blinked, crouching onto the floor to pick up two pieces of paper. “Hang on. What’s this?”

“Better question, what’s _that?_” The Doctor asked, pointing at the ceiling. He was tall enough that he was able to trace his fingers down the deep furrows made in the material, some of the drywall sprinkling down and adorning his hair. Thoughtlessly, Rose picked the rubble out of it. “I don’t want to be around when whatever did _that _shows up.” 

A deep, growling roar echoed through the halls and he winced.

“You just _had _to say it, didn’t you?” Rose sighed exasperatedly, smacking his arm. 

“Hide now, berate later,” the Doctor retorted, grabbing her arm and steering her toward the rest of the group. “Everyone, hide! Pick a room, any room! Wait for it to leave!” 

“No, but there was an exit, just-“ Mags trailed off with a frown when a normal room stood in place of the emergency stairwell she’d seen, brow furrowing in bemusement as she allowed herself to be ushered into the nearest room. 

Gibbis, Rita, and Joe were nowhere to be seen.

“W-what’s that?” Howie asked, pointing. 

“A creature from my home planet,” Mags murmured, fascinated as she stepped closer and observed the tiny rat-like beast with interest. She smiled as it scurried over her shoe and disappeared under the bed. “Hardly a scary thing. Why would it be here?”

“I suggest that this place is trying to encourage you to leave for some reason,” the Doctor muttered, getting down onto the carpet to lift the bed skirt to examine the rodent. “A surprisingly cute creature, if one ignores the reptilian influence.” He pulled his head back out and dropped his arms on the top of the bed with his chin resting on them, thoughtful. This isn’t your room, to be sure, though it has something related to you in it. Curious.” 

A glance was spared for Rose as she guided Howie onto the other bed in the room and explained what she wanted to do to protect him. 

“Very curious, indeed...” Mags ignored all three persons as she went to the door and bolted it shut, peering through the peephole and gasping. 

“There’s a Minotaur outside,” she whispered. “No, don’t come closer,” she said softly as the Doctor sprang to his feet. “It can sense my presence. I don’t think it liked being seen.” There was a scream, or several of them, down the hall and without a second thought she yanked the door clean off its hinges and tore down the corridors after the minotaur as it dragged Joe’s body out of sight. 

The halls spread out on every side, elongating and pinching, warping and changing before her very eyes. Joe’s scent trail kept wavering in and out of existence, but after a few moments she came to its end and grimaced. 

“I’m sorry Joe,” she sighed.

~§§~

Rita, Mags, and Gibbis were busy moving furniture in the dining room as the Doctor inspected Joe’s body. To say that he was depressed was an understatement, though it was hard to tell if you didn’t know him. Rose did, and she kept a careful eye on him as she made tea. 

“I’m becoming my mother,” she muttered, smiling softly when Howie let out a chuckle. “Disaster strikes and I make tea.”

“The British method of coping,” Howie agreed, lifting his mug after pouring some of the steaming liquid into it. “Cheers.” 

“Cheers,” Rose echoed, sipping and sighing. She swallowed. “How’s your head?”

“Great. It’s all... warm, sort of,” he answered after a few moments. “I just feel _safe_.” He eyed her shrewdly over his mug. “I heard that conversation you had with you and the Doctor? I’m sorry about your friend. But... dating him, and by default me, would by like dating a cousin huh?” Rose blushed, embarrassed, and nodded. He smiled. “That’s okay. Meeting you lets me know that there _are _girls out there who would like me for who I am. Gives me hope. I can go home and actually feel able to engage in society.”

“Y’know... what’s your job?”

“I just graduated from uni with a degree in computer programming. Why?”

“Lemme give you the number of a friend of ours. He can give you a recommendation to work at UNIT.”

“UNIT?” Howie gazed at her in astonishment. “I already tried there. It was, like, my dream job. But I got denied.”

“Yeah, but trust me, with a recommendation from Alistair you’re gonna get in on the second try.” 

“Okay, you’re seriously awesome,” he laughed. His eyes skittered over to the Doctor, who was doing his best to act like he wasn’t to listening to the conversation, and he lowered his voice. “So, is that bloke like your boyfriend or something? Or maybe you want him to be?” 

“Oh, shut up,” Rose muttered, taking a large gulp of tea to hide her face and going about making more cups for everyone when they got back. 

“Why do I feel like I should be writing Howie’s mother a condolence letter?” Rita asked as she handed the Doctor a mug of tea and sat on the tiny stage he had laid Joe out on. The Doctor took the proffered beverage with a small smirk but said nothing until he’d tasted it, humming in appreciation. 

“Rose made this,” he said. It was a statement, not a question. It had been mixed perfectly as he liked it. 

“Yes. What sort of species...”

“That’s for her to tell, and me to keep secret.”

“Sorry." Rita bit her lip. “It’s just that there’s something... animal about her. Well, her and Mags both, I suppose. But with Mags it’s noticeable. With Rose it’s like it’s... buried. Deep, under the surface. But there.” His gaze held steady and she sighed, accepting defeat, and moved on to another topic. “What exactly happened to Joe?”

“He died.”

“Right... you are a _medical _doctor, aren’t you? You haven’t just... got a degree in _cheese-making_, or...?”

“Not exactly,” the Doctor admitted, eyes twinkling a bit with amusement at the bit about cheese-making. “I can tell you the exact anatomy of at least seventeen different species that I’ve studied in-depth. I can tell you what indicators can diagnose certain diseases. I can even tell you how someone died by examining them. But I’m not trained in anything other than emergency field treatment. As for Joe here... well, I can’t _find _a cause of death. There isn’t a single mark on his body. When I did a scan, it’s as if his organs just... shut down and decided to not ever start up again. I can’t explain it.”

“Any more than you can explain fake alien hotels that move the walls on us?” Rita asked pointedly, raising an eyebrow. The Doctor laughed quietly and nodded, ducking his head. “Look, there’s no shame in it. It’s no more ridiculous than- than Howie’s CIA theory that he had when this all started or... or mine.” 

“And what’s yours?”

“That this is Jahannam.” The Doctor’s expression brightened and he smiled widely at her.

“You’re Muslim!”

“Yeah,” Rita chuckled nervously. “Don’t be frightened.”

“Why would I be-“ a quick, sharp in-drawn breath as deep sadness clouded his features. “Ah, right. The terrorist attacks upon the World Trade Center in September of 2001.” Some of the barriers in his eyes dropped and Rita inhaled sharply at the sight. He looked suddenly so very old, tired, and alien that way that it made her heart clench as his shoulders slumped. 

“There’s so much hatred in this universe, Rita,” he sighed. “I’ve seen so much pain. I don’t think I’ll ever understand it all, certainly not the killing of innocents, no matter which side they’re on.” His next words broke her heart. “Children don’t understand enough to really choose a side to begin with, but they’re made to fight and die in the wars of their parents regardless simply because they can learn to use a weapon. If they’re too young, they’re called ‘casualties of war’ and the world calls it a terrible loss before moving on. So much prejudice, so much hate... It’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t,” Rita whispered. She shook herself, trying to change the mood. “Still. It sort of makes sense to me that Hell would look like a creepy horror movie rendition of a 1980s hotel. The décor is atrocious, the service is terrible, and I bet that if I were to go and check the ice machine it would be broken.”

“And the bête noires?” A shrug.

“Cleaner’s strike.” They exchanged an amused glance that did little to hide the shadows behind their eyes. 

“Doctor?” Rose called softly. He looked up as she walked across the room and handed him a mangled notebook. “I found this in the hallway, then everything went crazy... still. Gave it a read, can’t make much sense of it. Thought you might want to give it a go.”

“Oh, I suppose I’ll take a swing at it,” he replied cheerfully, pulling out his half moon specs and plopping them on his nose as he leant against a table and crossed his ankles together. He cleared his throat and began reading aloud. “‘My name is Lucy Hayward, and I’m the last one left... took Luke first, got him on the first day. Almost as soon as we arrived. You don’t know what’s going to be in your room until you see it. Then you realize it could never have been anything else. I just saw mine, it was a gorilla from a book I’d read as a kid. That thing used to terrify me.

“‘The gaps between my worships are getting shorter, like contractions. This is what happened to the others. ...And how lucky they were. It’s all so clear now. I’m so happy. Praise him.’” 

“Praise him,” Gibbis murmured almost on reflex. As one the room inhaled sharply and turned to stare at him as he began to shake in terror. “Oh. No. Not me. Not what happened to Joe. Not- Praise him!” He let out a squeak and ran from the room, most likely to hide.

“Why is he terrified of the idea, when the others were so happy?” Rita exclaimed. 

“He wanted me first,” Howie said slowly. “But Rose fixed that.”

“No, Rose helped,” the Doctor muttered. “The force possessing people and making them happy to be eaten is far too powerful for her to overcome on her own. You did something yourself to get rid of it. What was it?” He began to pace, then quite as suddenly stopped dead. “You said, when Rose went into your mind, that it made you feel safe. Whatever frightened you couldn’t touch you anymore.”

“Could it really be that simple?” Mags asked. “That it feeds on fear? I have plenty of fears. Why didn’t I find my room?”

“Neither Rose nor I have found ours yet either. No, fear. That makes sense. So many species across the universe use fear as a, a beacon. A weapon. Why not as a food source, hmm. Why not.”

“Well, how do you make something like Gibbis, who is _always _scared, feel safe?” 

“I don’t think we can.” The defeat in his voice was obvious. Rose closed the distance between them and linked their fingers together, resting her head on his chest and letting him drop his chin down to rest on the top of her head in turn. 

“We can try,” she said softly. His grip tightened on her hand as he regathered his resolve, and slowly he nodded. 

“We have a Tivolian to find, and very little time to do it in,” the Doctor said, raising his head high and straightening his shoulders. On the plus side, he wants to hide so it might give us a little extra wiggle room. And maybe... just maybe, it will give us some answers as well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Fourth Doctor regenerated after chasing the Master and falling from a catwalk attached to a satellite dish. This happened in ‘Logopolis,’ and ever since then the Doctor has been noticeably afraid of heights. If he was prior to the incident, he never overtly showed it. Afterwards he outright admits or shows it in more than one body, including his Fifth (as seen in Castrovalva), Eighth (as seen in the 1996 Movie), and again in his Tenth (as seen in ‘Evolution of the Daleks’). While afraid of heights, he deals with it in his own way because he recognizes that sometimes he has to ignore the fear to get out of a situation he’s put himself into (1996 Movie, ‘Gridlock,’ ‘Evolution of the Daleks,’ ‘The End of Time Part II,’ etc). 
> 
> If any of you are wondering about the styles of martial arts Rose tried out and what their significance is, let me explain. The four styles I mentioned are the basis for the Bending styles seen in ‘Avatar: The Last Airbender.’ Hung Gar Kuan influenced Earthbending - save for Toph who uses a variation of Southern Praying Mantis due to her being blind - Tai Chi Chuan influenced Waterbending, Ba Gua Zhang influenced Airbending, and Northern Shaolin Kung Fu influenced Firebending. I do not suggest she watched the show, but I did and I’m a nerd so if I had to pick a martial arts style for her of course I would do so based on what type of Bender I think she is.
> 
> Rose, I headcanon totally based on her personality, would be a very talented Firebender. The reason she suggested the Doctor (Five in particular) try Ba Gua Zhang or Airbending is because it is very defensive but with some offensive movements, and makes a point of using the opponent’s strength and energy against them. For someone who was always overwhelmed by his opponents in the show because they were stronger, this would be a very useful and effective style for him.
> 
> If you like A:TLA or just want to know more about the different styles I found really good answers here, but be sure to read all three answers in the thread: https://www.quora.com/What-martial-arts-styles-inspired-Avatar-The-Last-Airbender  
This is also a good video for seeing the different styles in action:  
https://youtu.be/iisrUSi7Kgw


	23. The God Complex II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PART 2 OF 2
> 
> I’m finally herrrrrrrreeeeeeeee! *squeaks with happiness* 
> 
> ...Ahem. *clears throat, regains composure*
> 
> Enjoy.

Finding Gibbis proved to be insanely difficult. Not only was he good at hiding, but he didn’t want to be found by either the Minotaur nor them. The other problem was that the rooms kept shifting, and they were stubbornly redirected nine times out of ten back to reception or the dining room. Finally, Rose let out a huff and gave in.

“I need to shift,” she said. The Doctor, who had been on the floor trying to pick up any sort of item to be used to better track Gibbis, whipped his head upward to stare at her in surprise. 

“Are you sure?” He asked, eyes skittering to the other two people in the room - both of whom were regarding their exchange curiously. Rose nodded.

“I can get a better scent that way, and it’ll be easier to follow. 

“What’s shifting?” 

“My species has two forms,” Rose explained to Rita’s question. The medical student regarded her with a dark calculating gaze. “One humanoid... and the other Wolf.”

“Wa- wait wait wait,” Howie laughed. “You’re a Werewolf?” Both Mags’ and Rose’s ears flicked slightly in annoyance at the derogatory term but neither made comment due to the fact that he would have no way of knowing. He laughed again. “Cool.” 

“What, and I’m just supposed to trust that you won’t eat me?” Rita retorted skeptically, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Could do,” Rose snapped, hurt. “It’s not like I’ve shown any indication that you looked tasty before now have I? Yeesh. Mention one tiny thing and suddenly out come the stereotypes...”

“I- I didn’t mean it like that,” Rita said quickly, shame coloring her cheeks a nice rosy pink in embarrassment. “This is just all so new to me.”

“No I get it,” Rose sighed. Her gaze locked with the Doctor’s for a few moments before she turned and walked quickly down the hall, shifting into a large golden Wolf as she went. Howie’s squeak of fascination was ignored, as was the Doctor’s soft groan of annoyance when he heard it. Her nose all but flat to the floor, she deeply inhaled the scent in the carpet and chuffed in satisfaction when she faintly detected Gibbis’ trail. 

The group followed her up and down stairs, across halls and through large rooms. She eventually stopped outside a nondescript room and whined, pawing at the door. The Doctor obliged her by turning the handle. 

His sharp, in-drawn breath was the only warning they had that the Minotaur was inside. Gibbis was cowering in the en-suite with the door closed and apparently locked, the hulking creature bellowing and ramming it’s horns into the wood. Rose growled and circled the Doctor’s legs, crouched low to the ground in front of his feet.

“Don’t!” The Doctor called sharply. The Minotaur paused in what it was doing, eyeing him with a burning blue gaze. Its head lifted as it bellowed and the Time Lord’s brow furrowed. 

“‘Jailer?’” He repeated softly under his breath, confused. “Warden, maybe? What- oh. This- this is a prison.” He shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels, feigning nonchalance. “But a prison for whom? You, or us? And if so, what have we done to end up here?”

His questions were met by another bellow and the splintering of wood as the creature rammed its head once more against the en-suite door. Gibbis screamed on the other side, a combination of abject terror and ‘my lord’ repeated over and over again in whimpering form.

“‘Pain.’ What pain? Yours? Your pain? That makes _you _the prisoner, then. But why? Why this elaborate set-up, why bother with leading people in here for you to feed upon the fears of?”

One last roaring growl before the door broke apart, and the Minotaur stomped in. Gibbis let out one final cry of agony before going entirely silent, and Rose had to sink her teeth into his pants leg and pull to drag him out of harm’s way as the creature walked back into the hall. It turned a corner and was gone, at which point Rita rushed into the bathroom and slowly came back out with a defeated expression. 

“He’s dead,” she whispered. “We were too late.” The Doctor blinked, shaking his head. He still looked entirely confused and not a little bit frightened. 

“He said, ‘they replace their fear,’” he murmured softly. “But with what? Why do they have to replace it before he can feed?” He shook his head again, this time more roughly, and ran down the hall in the direction the creature had gone.

“Doctor, where are you going!?” Mags exclaimed.

“To find answers!” 

Rose looked to Mags and let out a soft howling bark, to which the woman nodded, and watched resignedly as both her friends vanished in the rearranging corridors. 

“Where are they going?” Howie asked. 

“Well, the Doctor needs to know more about the puzzle, and Rose won’t let him go on his own,” Mags explained. “She told me to take us all back to the dining room, so that we can lay Gibbis to rest beside Joe.”

“You understood her?” Rita asked. 

“Yes.”

“How?”

“I’m a Wolf as well. There are multiple species of Wolves, and we aren’t the same, but all Wolves understand one another in the tongue of our kind.” 

“Wicked,” Howie breathed. Rita and Mags exchanged a soft smile of amusement. At least someone was enjoying themselves.

“Are they always like that?” Rita asked as they carefully moved Gibbis’ body out of the room and started back toward the hall. Their task was a morbid one and it helped to be distracted. “Swanning off in search of answers and danger together?”

“Usually,” Mags replied with a soft smile. “She’s entirely gone for him, you see. And he is for her, he just doesn’t realize it yet. They both love trouble, those two. But they’re good at heart - or hearts, depending on which one you’re talking about - and they really do want to try and save as many people as possible.” Her gaze drifted to Gibbis’ face and she sighed. “Sometimes they don’t succeed.” 

“It must be hard.”

“I suppose it must be, yes.”

Rose soon grew tired of everything being too tall for her and shifted back mid-run, growling in frustration when the Doctor’s trail seemed to cross itself twice over at an intersection. She skidded to a halt, carefully scenting the air to determine which was freshest of the three paths open before her. She might have needed to be down on the ground to find Gibbis, but the Doctor’s scent was a part of her every breath. She would know it anywhere, anywhen. 

Her breathe caught as soft whispering echoed in her mind, and slowly she turned to see a door marked with the number ‘19’ at the end of one of the halls. Bidden, she walked toward it and eased the handle out of the catch. The wood creaked open to reveal her room and she swallowed. 

Mickey and Jackie were inside. 

“I waited for you,” Mickey said softly, pain in his voice. “I waited. And you never came back. So guess what, Rose? I moved on.” He jabbed his thumb into the center of his chest. _I_. Moved. On. From. _You._”

“You never came home,” Jackie hissed, betrayal dripping from her words. “My one daughter, my only child! You never came back to visit, you never returned my calls!” Her voice pitched higher as she shouted. “You didn’t come to my funeral!”

“Yeah, nor mine!” Mickey added, angry. “Where were you, Rose!? What was so important you left us behind!? Did you even care!?”

“I hate you!” Jackie shrieked. Rose bit her lip as tears filled her eyes. 

“I love you,” she whispered into the room. “And you’re right. I wasn’t there when you needed me to be. I can’t change that. Nor can I change how you felt about me.” Though her voice wavered it remained strong as she spoke to the Minotaur and her family both. “But that’s the thing. I have no idea how you felt. My worst fear is that this, right here, is what you died feeling and believing. But I can’t go back and fix what I broke. I have to live with it. Move on. Because I can’t let the regrets of what I didn’t do hold me back from becoming who I was meant to be. I have to move on, accepting that I’ll never know. And I’m sorry.” 

Rose eased the door closed and leant against it in the hallway with a shuddering sigh. 

“I’m sorry,” she repeated. In her head, she felt the presence of the Minotaur draw toward her and pause before brushing gently against her mind. The gesture was almost one of respect and acceptance before it withdrew to parts unknown. 

“Rose?” The Doctor called softly. Rose bit her lip and looked to the ceiling.

“Found my room,” she murmured. Quick, urgent footsteps brought him right to her as his hands gently gripped her shoulders. Sky blue eyes were warm with concern as he looked her over. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah. It was... exactly what I thought it would be.” She let her forehead fall squarely in between his beating hearts and sighed. “I wasn’t scared. Just... resigned. It hurt. I don’t think the Minotaur understood how I felt about my biggest fear when he made my room.” 

“What do you mean?” He asked gently, softly nudging her to follow him back toward reception and the others. Rose leaned into his side as they walked, his arm resting lightly around her waist. 

“I’m not scared of it. I used to be, a long time ago. But now I use it to remind me. Remind me why I can’t just... take off when things get hard. And it hurts, yeah? But it isn’t scary. Just... sad.” 

“Do you want to tell me what it was?” 

“I tell you a lot of things, Doctor,” Rose whispered softly. “But that was something that, right now, needs to be just for me. Someday.” The Doctor hummed in acknowledgement and complete understanding. 

~§§~

The Doctor was leaning against the railing of the stairs on the second floor when Rita came up to him. He had been looking at Gibbis’ picture on the wall. 

“Holding up?” He asked quietly as she copied his pose beside him. 

“As best I can.”

“Good. That’s... good. I ah, I’m just... calculating. Trying to find a way to get us out of here.”

“And, why is it up to _you _to get us all out of here?” Rita asked, a soft smile and an eyebrow raise accompanying the question. He raised an eyebrow in return. “Quite the God Complex you’ve got there.” The Doctor chuckled, though it was brittle and false. 

“A God Complex is when someone thinks they’re of a higher status than literally everyone else and demands they be treated as such,” he explained bitterly. “Trust me, I come from an entire planet that’s like that. And I may have an over-inflated ego on many an occasion, but... never that. I have far too many flaws that I’m aware of to suffer from that delusion. No, I think the term you’re looking for is ‘Hero Complex.’ Or ‘Hero Syndrome.’ They mean the same thing.” He slumped further on the railing and sighed. “The inherent desire or compulsion to help people, believing without a shadow of a doubt that they’ll be the one to save the day. I’d make a rubbish god, Rita. And I get knocked down far too often to be any sort of decent hero.”

“You try,” Rita finally said after a few moments. “That’s hero enough for me.” His head lifted slightly to look at her in disbelief and she smiled. “I mean it. Trying. That’s half the battle won, right there. Trying means you _care_.” Her gaze shifted over his shoulder and the smile turned into a triumphant smirk. “Why would a hotel need security cameras, do you think?”

“Why...?” The Doctor’s eyes widened as he followed her gaze, a broad smile lighting up his face and making him look centuries younger. He raced past her down the steps, shouting ‘eureka!’ As he went and unintentionally drawing the attention of the three people already down there as he ran for the security room. When he was far gone she let the smile drop, her eyes meeting the camera slowly. 

“Save them, Doctor,” she whispered softly as words echoed in her mind. _Praise Him._

~§§~

In his haste to find the security room the Doctor took a wrong turn and ended up back in the corridors. About to leave, he paused when one seemed to be calling him to it. 

He was led to a plain door with the number ‘5’ marked on it, his breathe soft as he turned the handle. His nose had barely registered the achingly beautiful scents of Gallifrey, the sounds of voices whispering in his mind, when the door slammed shut in his face; Rose was standing in front of it with her arms braced on either side. 

“No,” she said simply, her gaze hard as steel as it bored into his own. He blinked, swallowing as his hearts thudded painfully in his chest, before turning away. 

“I need to find the security room,” he muttered. “This place is wired with cameras. Cameras, everywhere. We can track the Minotaur.”

“It’s in a little nook just outside of Reception,” Howie said, pointing back the way they’d come as he caught up to them with Mags by his side.

“Did you go into your room?” She asked sharply, looking between the Doctor and Rose.

“I didn’t really get a chance to,” he retorted tersely. 

“If I didn’t know better I’d say you _wanted _to go in there,” Rose muttered. He winced at her tone. “Of course, that would be a _tremendously _stupid thing to do just to satisfy your curiosity.”

“You found yours,” the Doctor pointed out as he opened to door to the security room and gazed at the cameras.

“I did.”

“You went in.” 

“I knew what I would find. And I knew I had to let it go. Let _them _go. And I did.” 

“Hey, knock it off!” Mags snapped, pointing at the wall of television screens. “Where’s Rita going?”

“Oh, no...” The Doctor breathed, sinking down into the only chair available. “She... she looked so... sad, when we were talking...”

“She started praising it,” Rose murmured softly, resting her hands on his shoulders. 

“We have to try and stop her!” Howie exclaimed, lunging for the phone. He froze when the Doctor deftly caught his wrist in midair, holding it easily in place. 

“Wait. She’s looking at the camera,” he whispered. 

Sure enough, Rita was staring so intently at the camera that it appeared she could see them right back.

_“Don’t try to talk me out of this,” _she said. A soft smile graced her pretty face, dark hair curling to frame it perfectly. _“I’m not afraid. I meet my death on my own terms. I choose to remain me. But, please... I can feel him coming.” _The Minotaur roared somewhere off-screen. _“If I am to lose my faith, do me the honor of letting it happen in private. I am at peace. Look away.” _

A shadow crossed the floor of the image. 

_“Goodbye, Doctor. Remember what I said.”_

Rose reached over and turned the screens off. They just stood there for a few moments in the silence. Alone. Always alone. 

Without a word, the Doctor pushed himself up from the chair and strode purposefully through the halls. 

“Rose?” Mags called softly. 

“You and Howie need to stay in the dining room,” Rose replied, walking slowly after him. “He’ll try to send me away but he can’t, but it will help him to know the two of you are safe.” Mags met her eyes for a long moment before nodding.

“Talk him down from the ledge,” she said quietly before steering a shaken Howie away. Rose blew a harsh breath through her nose and retraced her steps, stopping beside the Doctor as he hesitated outside of his room.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said without looking at her. Rose twined their fingers together tightly.

“Tough.”

“Rose, you shouldn’t put your faith in me.” He finally looked at her, the sky dark with storm and rumbling thunder. “It’s sorely misplaced.”

“How do you mean?” 

“I got it _wrong_, Rose. The creature doesn’t feed on fear. It feeds on _faith. _It scares people, then drives them toward what they believe in. Joe was a gambler. Had a horseshoe tie pin and dice cuff links. Gibbis believed he was good for nothing more than oppression. Rita...” he trailed off, swallowing. “Rita was a devout Muslim. She figured it out, in the end. But I couldn’t see it. Mags, she doesn’t believe in anything. It kept trying to show her an exit. And you...”

“I wasn’t afraid, so I had nothing I needed to run from,” Rose summarized, stepping around him and in front of him to place one hand over each of his hearts. “What do Time Lords pray to then, Doctor?” 

“Rose, I have to do this,” he said decisively, stepping around her. She stubbornly matched his movements to end up by his side step for step. “I need to see. To know. To confront this creature before it hurts anyone else.” His hand was on the door, turning the handle, pushing it open. He was halfway inside when her next words froze him in his tracks.

“For the record, I never believed in you Doctor.” 

Rose slowly stepped around to be in front of him again, stepping so close he could feel her human heat slowly seeping through his numerous layers. Her whiskey eyes were wide and sincere as she looked up at him. 

“...What?” The word was like ash on the Doctor’s tongue and he found it hard to breathe. It felt like someone had thrown a cement brick at his chest. 

“I never believed in you,” Rose repeated, taking each of his hands in her own and raising them between them. “I believe in _us_. Together. Fighting the good fight, because no one else will. Is that so much to ask, that we do this together? Like we’ve done everything else before now and how we’ll do everything else after. Please.” 

They were both silent for a few moments. Finally, he let out a long slow breath and nodded. Rose slowly backed into the room in front of him, keeping their eyes locked together. 

The room, unlike the others prior to it, was simulating Gallifrey. The door they stepped through looked for all intents and purposes to be the entrance to a shop. The air was heavily laced with the scent of Arkytior and Schlenk blossoms, the sky a pale amber with a heavy cloud layer obscuring most of the sunlight. Dark umbre dirt and thick red grass clumped together on the edges of a well-manicured garden plot in the middle of a pristine and busy city. 

Across the street, a young man sat dejectedly on the steps of a courthouse building holding a wilting bouquet of snowy white and soft purple flowers. 

The Doctor stood frozen, his gaze riveted on the young man. Rose looked between the two and walked over to sit beside him, leaning in close to speak softly. He was a skinny, scrawny sort of man who did not fit well into his tacky bright orange and scarlet robes; they were too long, too starched, too formal. Raven hair had been trimmed and slicked back against his skull, shining in the weak light. Angular features with a hawk nose and thin lips, a minor brow. It wasn’t the handsomest of faces, but it was kind and sad. 

“What do you want?” A soft, cultured voice asked harshly. At least, Rose was sure it was meant to be harsh. But he was an odd mix of tenor and baritone in that his vowels were low and his consonants were high, and overall it was hoarse and scratchy in a way that one usually associated with someone who had recently been crying. He still hadn’t looked up or opened his eyes. 

“You looked sad, and I don’t like to leave people sad,” Rose said simply. The man scoffed. 

“You sound like a Cerulean,” he muttered. 

“Yeah, so what if I am? What’re you?”

“I’m a Prydonian.” The word fell flat upon delivery. “Chapter of power, leadership, and wisdom.” He took on a mocking tone. “Full of bureaucrats and stuffy senators who have never been to the back of their garden let alone another planet. Sometimes I wish I was loomed an Arcalian.” 

“That doesn’t tell me why you’re sad,” Rose pointed out. That got a soft but genuine laugh out of the man, and he finally looked at her. Rose sucked in a breath when she saw them. They were hazel, but the kind more blue-tan than green-brown. And the blue in them... she knew that blue. It was the color of sky, the rising of oceans, the rain of spring, the rage of tempests. “What’s your name?”

“Theta.” He said it as if it left a sour taste on his tongue. “Theta Sigma is my Academy designation.” He sighed, glancing at the sky above them - such as it was sealed away from them by a biodome - and added, “I can’t wait to choose my title and get away from this place.” 

He looked back at her and arched an eyebrow. 

“You don’t belong here.”

“Neither do you.” 

The wary posture he was holding crumbled as he slumped on the steps and hung his head. 

“No. If you must know, I’m sad because I was waiting for someone and they never came. I’ve waited all day, but...” 

“Well, in my experience people who keep me waiting without my ever knowing if they’re intending to show up aren’t worth my time,” Rose said definitively. “But someday, there’ll be someone to wait for ‘cause they’re never gonna leave ya.” 

“You really think so?” Theta Sigma asked, looking skeptical. Rose nodded, leaning forward to cup his jaw with her hand and stroking his cheek with her fingers. He stiffened at the contact.

“Yes, I do,” she said fervently. “You’re _worth _the lows for the highs, Theta. _Always_. I’d stick around for both.” The man relaxed quite suddenly, snatching her hand from his face and dropping it into his lap where it was loosely twined with his. 

“Thank you,” he murmured. There was genuine warmth in his voice as he plucked one of the white blossoms from his bouquet and tucked it into her hair, the stem behind her ear. “For you. It suits you.”

“Thank you kindly,” Rose said softly. “What is it?”

“An Arkytior blossom. Most closely resembles a Rose.” 

She smiled brightly at that, then frowned. The illusion shook quite violently around them, the image flickering in and out of cohesive reality. Theta Sigma didn’t seem to notice it. She stood quickly, looking over at the Doctor and shivering. There was something... indefinable in the way he was watching her across the street with the image of his younger self. 

“Theta?” She whispered. The young man looked up, startling when she bent down and pecked him platonically on the cheek. “I have to go. But remember what I said, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, staring after her with wide eyes as she ran across the street. 

By the time Rose reached him the entire reality was collapsing. It fit perfectly with his current emotional state, really. Perfect representation. This woman had not only recognized that he needed to confront his demons, but that he couldn’t succeed on his own. She had fought them on his behalf and crashed through the barriers he’d kept in place since that day, but it hadn’t been instantaneous; only now did the Doctor realize they’d been a breath away from shattering after she’d patiently chiseled at them for years. 

The Minotaur bellowed from the hallway nearby and he swallowed nervously. It’s eyes were fixed on him, it’s mind interested in his own. 

Rose’s hand slipped into his.

_I believe in us,_ he thought, meeting the glare of the beast proudly. _You hold no sway over either of us when we stand together. _

The Minotaur let out a strangled cry as the rest of the hotel shattered around them in a single moment revealing a holo-grid, the TARDIS, and Mags with a startled Howie. The creature sank to the floor with a moan and the Doctor knelt on his heels, Rose mirroring the position on the other side of its head. 

“It’s food source was cut off,” the Doctor murmured, gently stroking the beast’s snout as it took long labored breaths. “It couldn’t go after Mags because she didn’t believe, and Howie had his initial faith turned on its head so it couldn’t latch on. When it came to you there was no fear to drive you to your faith.” He paused, pursing his lips together for a few seconds. “And finally, you changed mine. It wouldn’t have been possible without you, Rose.”

“Better with two,” she said with a smile. 

“No,” he replied earnestly, squeezing their twined hands together. “Better with _you_.” Rose blushed and he cleared his throat, suddenly aware that there were others in the room. “Mm.” He quickly rose and walked over to the singular computer with alien characters in the center of the vast space. “This particular chap is a distant cousin of the Nimon. Nasty race. They descend on planets and set themselves up to be worshipped. Ran into them in my last incarnation, actually. However, _this _was supposed to be _his _prison, so...” 

“Space,” Mags said, pointing at the porthole set into the floor. 

“Mm... The computer shows several logs of glitches that developed over time,” the Doctor murmured, slipping on his specs. “Years’ worth in fact. No wonder it was such a mess, it went wrong.” 

“It went right, in some ways,” Howie said softly. When they turned to glance at him he ducked his head. “Thank you, for saving my life. And um, and if you could be kind enough to drop me home, I can tell Rita's family about her. Make sure they know she was strong and did them proud. Space was... interesting, but I think I like Earth a little too much to overstay my welcome.”

“Got one more shock in store for you, Howie,” Rose laughed, slinging her arm over his shoulders as she guided him into the TARDIS. It wasn’t until after the door had closed that the Minotaur spoke with soft, labored growls before going entirely still. 

“What did he say, Doctor?” Mags asked softly. He startled, as if he’d forgotten she was there, and nervously ruffled the hair at the back of his head before replying. 

“He- he said that... that few things can overcome faith of the kind he instills and feeds upon.”

“Things like...?”

“Love,” the Doctor whispered shortly, pocketing his specs and striding into the TARDIS with such fervor that Mags was forced to run to slip in after him. She smiled, about to make a comment, before she caught sight of the absolutely torn and broken expression on his face as he dashed about the console to get Howie home. 

As soon as they had landed - and had verified that Howie was in fact home in the correct time period - he disappeared off to parts unknown deep in the ship. 

“Rose, is he... okay?” 

“No,” Rose murmured. They’d said their goodbyes, she’d phoned Alistair about leaving a good reference sometime in the distant past to be reviewed in the present, and now it was time to relax and decompress after a particularly traumatic adventure. “I’ll pop in to see him in a bit. Something tells me he needs some time on his own first.” 

The TARDIS hummed in agreement and she sighed, caressing the console lovingly. 

“I know, Dear. I’ll look after him.”

“What was in his room?” Mags asked. Her eyes were large and concerned rather than curious, and it warmed Rose’s heart to see that. 

“You’re a good person Mags,” Rose sighed softly. “He... he’s had a hard life. Much of it has brought him pain, so much so that the joy is hard-pressed to balance it out. He had to relive some of that today.”

“Is that so terrible?”

“He runs. He doesn’t stop to process, to grieve. There’s all this... unresolved trauma.” Rose bit her lip. “And as long as I’m around, I’m going to try to help him deal with it to the point where it no longer consumes him.” The TARDIS let out a chirp that sounded suspiciously like a derisive laugh and she lightly smacked the console. “Hush, you. I know it sounds impossible, but my definition of impossible falls more along the lines of ‘just a bit unlikely.’”

“Better you than me,” Mags muttered, raising a dubious eyebrow. After a few moments she shrugged. “Good luck, I leave him in your capable and experienced hands.”

“Thanks,” Rose said, smiling as she left. It faded when she was gone, the TARDIS humming sympathetically in the background. “I have a feeling the both of us are going to need it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UP NEXT: INTERLUDE, FOLLOWED BY AN ORIGINAL STORY.
> 
> And on that note, I have had the interlude written for two weeks prior to publishing this so yeah, this is a double update. Have to do a quick scan for continuity errors, but expect it to come up by the next morning. Quick succession, yay!
> 
> So, now you guys know why I was so excited. Why I love this particular story. Why it means so much. Because now, NOW the Doctor finally sees what everyone else has all along. Rose isn’t going to leave him, and he doesn’t have to resign himself to a future heartsbreak. 
> 
> *cracks knuckles* Now I can get into some mutual pining intermixed with some outright oblivious lunacy. Fun times.
> 
> The Nimon were first seen in season 17, in a Fourth Doctor story arc titled “The Horns of Nimon.” The species would later be revisited in the EU. 
> 
> Everyone has their own interpretation of what the Academy Era Doctor looked like and I honestly don't have a preference for how they do that, but I personally spent a lot of time looking at photos and stills of William Hartnell when he was young. Scrounged around looking for the rare colorized one. And I know for certain he either had black or very, very dark brown hair. The eyes were trickier, but I've come to the conclusion that they were neither blue nor green. More hazel. William Hartnell was also 5'8" and a bit of a scrawny fellow at that. As was Patrick Troughton. In comparison, Peter Davison is 6'0" as is Christopher Eccleston, with David Tennant coming in at 6'1" and Matt Smith at 5'11." ...I get bored, okay?
> 
> For those of you that don’t know, Gallifrey has several Chapters and within the Chapters they have Houses. The Doctor is of the House of Lungbarrow, in the Prydonian Chapter. The Master is of Oakdown, Prydonian. Etc etc etc. Each Chapter specialized (more or less) in specific fields and had, in general, a similar set of traits attached.
> 
> \-- Prydonian - Stand for power, leadership, and wisdom. They dress in scarlet and orange colors. Most went into politics. They were founded by Rassilon and were the most prominent and influential Chapter after the Time Lords came to power.   
\-- Arcalian - Stand for science, intellect, and discovery. They dress in fern green and brown colors. Most went into the sciences. They were founded by Omega and, prior to time travel were the most influential Chapter.  
\-- Patrex - Stand for creativity, inspiration, and spontaneity. They dress in a kaleidoscope of colors, though this can be narrowed down to two base colors of lavender and golden orange. They were founded by the Other. They are a group of artists, proficient in seeing the future. They were minor political players.  
\-- Cerulean - Stand for kindness, compassion, and nurturing. They dress in navy and sky blue colors. They hold very little political power, and not much is known about them in established canon. However, popular fandom opinion is that they are very in touch with nature and are very empathetic people. They are also most often associated with the rearing and growth of TARDISes, working in the nurseries.  
\-- Dromeian - Stand for philosophy, thought, and spirituality. They dress in grey and black colors. They hold very little political power, and not much is known about them in established canon. However, popular fandom opinion is that they are very observant and make good teachers, religious leaders, or archivists.   
\-- Scendeles - Stand for diligence, hard work, and pragmatism. They dress in tan and brown colors. They hold very little political power, and not much is known about them in established canon. However, popular fandom opinion is that they are very good at mathematics and have amazing self-discipline. 
> 
> The concept of Gallifreyan Chapters was first introduced in the Fourth Doctor episode “The Deadly Assassin.” Only the Chapters Prydonian, Arcalian, and Patrexan were shown or ever referenced in television. The other three Chapters were later introduced in Doctor Who’s Expanded Universe, and all six were expanded upon there. The two websites I used to gather my information were:  
\-- https://tardis.fandom.com/wiki/Category:Gallifreyan_Chapters  
\-- https://new-gallifrey.fandom.com/wiki/Category:Chapters
> 
> DISCLAIMER: My knowledge of Chapters is sparse, so if someone who has better sources and whatnot cares to correct me please do so. I like my information to be accurate. 


	24. Interlude: Bitten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m not used to being loved. I wouldn’t know what to do.”
> 
> -F. Scott Fitzgerald

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this in an interlude, so it will be quite short. As promised in the previous chapter, here it is within a 24 hour window.

Soft tapping on the door frame of the Doctor’s personal study made him sigh, but he didn’t look away from the ornate fireplace that he had been staring at pensively for the past three hours with his elbows resting against his knees and his chin resting on his knuckles as he stared pensively into the flames.

“Enter,” he muttered flatly, eyes closing briefly at the heady scent of tantalizing tea as he unclamped his hands and slumped back into his armchair with a groan as his spine finally relaxed from the hunched position it had been in. Rose set his mug down on the end table beside his chair and settled into the other chair in front of the fireplace, curling her legs underneath her and sipping her own mug with both hands. The only other chair in the room, coincidentally. Which most certainly had not been there two months prior when he’d popped in for a few seconds to grab a textbook. He hadn’t been back to the room since, preferring to actively seek out Rose’s company in the so-called evenings in the library. 

_What are you doing? _He asked telepathically, raising his gaze to the ceiling. The TARDIS merely sent the equivalent of a telepathic shrug back along with a smug grin. It was the type of response he got when she got her way on something and he was only just catching on to the fact but didn’t yet have all the pieces.

“Thought you might need a cuppa, after...” Rose trailed off and fixed her gaze on the fireplace.

“When did you know- know who-“ the Doctor cut himself off with a sigh and slumped further into the chair, rubbing at his temples with another sigh.

“Honestly? It was his eyes. Your eyes.” There was a long period of silence broken only by the steady hum of the TARDIS’ living heartbeat thrumming through the air. “You don’t have to tell me what happened.”

“I was two hundred and thirteen,” he huffed, each word dragging from his mouth as if it were physically paining him to do so. “And, to this very day, it was the worst moment in my entire life. I...” the fingers rubbing at his temples now moved on to scrape roughly down his face. “How do I explain this... mm. Rose, your planet has arranged marriages yes?”

“More so in ye olden times, but it still happens today,” she replied carefully, the only movement being made a slight narrowing of her eyes. He was struck yet again by how well they knew each other in that she didn’t press when she wasn’t supposed to.

“Aspiring Time Lords are told upon entry to the Academy that they will have a marriage arranged for them by their House,” he explained softly, gaze fixating again on the fireplace.

“At the age of eight.”

“Yes. By the age of twenty, it will have been finalized. The Initiates are told what will be expected in this union, which is the strengthening of political ties between the two houses through the submission of TNA samples to produce heirs through the Looms.”

“Yikes.”

“Exactly. Seeing as I would have still been the biological human equivalent of nine by that time... ‘Yikes’ indeed. We aren’t given any information about our betrothed, except the day and time that we will accept the proposal by meeting in person before the local court magistrate to begin the wedding process.” His lip curled slightly in a distinctly uncharacteristic display of outright disgust. “Husbands and wives are the terms used for political unions. Romantic unions use the simple neutral term of ‘mate.’”

“Your people really know how to suck the joy out of everything, don’t they?” Rose asked with a raised eyebrow, smiling softly when he finally looked at her with wan amusement. “See? Wasn’t so hard was it, looking at me. Eye contact.”

“Thank you,” the Doctor whispered. “So...”

“...So at the age of eight, you were told you were going to have an arranged marriage, and at twenty told you were expected to have a couple of kids with someone you didn’t even know,” Rose prompted. 

“Yes. Exactly. I... I didn’t fit in. On Gallifrey. My House couldn’t stand me, save for my elder brother who at least acknowledged my existence even if it was out of sheer embarrassment,” he murmured, squirming in his seat in discomfort. This conversation was revealing his deepest vulnerabilities and laying his hearts firmly on the table for her to see. He blinked as he realized that that prospect wasn’t half as daunting as he’d expected it to be and took a trembling breath. “Not one of my professors tolerated me except for Borusa - who, by the way, semi-recently mind controlled me and then ended up as part of a stone plinthe, so look where that relationship went - and Koschei. He was my only true friend, and as we grew older...” the Doctor swallowed, shifting to hunch over again in the taut position she’d found him in.

“Doctor?” 

“He became the Master, who-“ at Rose’s sharp in-drawn breath he nodded. “Exactly. As we grew older we grew further and further apart. You don’t have to imagine what it’s like to be alone among billions since you lived it, so I won’t bother to describe that...”

“Never as a child,” Rose replied immediately, getting up from her comfy chair to sit in front of him on the floor and simply resting a hand on his knee. The Doctor shrugged, seeking her hand with his and humming when he drew comfort from their clasped fingers.

“Alone, among billions,” he resumed, a determined edge making its way into his voice to get it over and done with. “And so I clung to the promise of my arranged marriage. It was a small comfort to know that someone was out there waiting for me. I hoped that we could eventually be more, be a proper family...” his expression grew wistful. 

“We were the first on the schedule for the day. I showed up about an hour early, all nerves and anxious anticipation. I’d even had my hair cut to a respectable length and preened accordingly. I was wearing the correct robes of my House and status. First impressions, and all that. And I waited, as the suns began to rise, for her to show up outside the magistrate’s office with a bouquet I’d picked of Arkytior blooms and Schlenk Blossoms.” Soft blue eyes seemed to crack as he briefly shut them tight and drew a harsh breath. “She...”

“She never came,” Rose summarized softly, her expression pained on his behalf. 

“I waited for her, all day,” he whispered hoarsely as moisture pooled in the corners of his eyes. He blinked it away furiously. “Standing on the steps of the office with a bouquet in my hands as other couples paired off over the course of the day. I waited long after the suns had set and the office had closed, sitting on those steps. I later found out that she had refused the match because she found me wanting.” 

The laugh that tore itself out of his chest was bitter. 

“I failed my first Exams, Rose. The second time, I barely scraped past with a fifty-two percent, and it wasn’t for lack of trying. I actually thoroughly enjoyed learning, but I didn’t do at all well with the style of instruction. My studies had been in deep space exploration and all that that entailed; language, astronomy, history, the sciences... it had been expected for me to go into politics, as is typical of my House and status as a Prydonian. I wasn’t what she wanted, and she refused me without ever meeting me in person. And I sat there on those unyielding stone steps with my hearts torn to shreds, my last hope of acceptance, burnt away. And my biggest fear, rejection... it’s become such an integral part of my existence by this point...” 

His breath hitched as Rose climbed into his chair, wrapping herself around him and perching precariously on the armrest, as she snuggled against his chest and pressed a kiss to his shoulder through his Oxford and Cricket jumper, the pressure sealing like a promise.

“I’m not leaving you, Theta,” she whispered as her comforting human heat soaked into his weary limbs.

_Theta. Theta Sigma._

He’d hated that nickname at the Academy. It was a number rather than a name, really, and it hurt that his House hadn’t had more thought put into the placeholder that he would answer to before choosing his title upon graduation. Hearing it from Rose’s lips was an entirely different experience. The consonants were uttered with such caring attention around the vowels that they felt special coming from her and the implications of that shook him to his core.

The Doctor dropped his chin on the top of her head as her heat and comfort slowly lulled him toward sleep after an emotionally-traumatic day. 

“I’m starting to get that, Rose,” he whispered, glancing toward the ceiling when the TARDIS let out a happy little sigh. He finally understood what she’d known from the moment Rose first stepped through the exterior door, and his hearts sped up at the implications. 

She seemed so soft and fragile when she was like this. She wasn’t of course, but still. So small, so precious, so- so...

“Litaajoso Naftnamaya,” he whispered in chiming Gallifreyan, planting a soft kiss to her bangs as he drew her closer and held her tight.

_My Everything._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Litaajoso Naftnamaya (LEET-AH-YO-SO NAH-FIT-NAH-MY-AH) - I made these words up. They are each a mixture of several different languages pertaining to the words “Beautiful Soul” respectively. Please don’t ask which languages as I no longer remember, but I cherry-picked parts of the translations and stuck the bits together to create new words. 
> 
> It is an indescribable concept in Gallifreyan, one of the rare ones in such a mathematically perfect language, that encompass aspects of love, intimacy, closeness, and friendship that defy description. But most commonly summing indescribable things as the simple infinitive “My Everything.” And yes, the ‘E’ is always meant to be capitalized. 
> 
> UP NEXT: AN ORIGINAL STORY.


	25. Hunt of the Champions I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In other news, I have finally drawn a profile picture I actually really like...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PART 1 OF 4
> 
> Hey people. So, for starters, this story is going to be purely fluffy, shenanigans, idiocy, and an all around romp as a bit of an apology to balance the angst with light-hearted content. This is an apology both to the readers and the author, because it’s not enjoyable for me to write 100% angst and the last three stories have been pretty angsty. 
> 
> Now, total disclaimer. If you have a good grasp on who Leela is, feel free to skip the rest of this top note. This is for people who have little to no idea who she is so that they don’t feel left out in the story and I don’t have to do an insane amount of character introduction if I don’t have to. ;)
> 
> So. Leela was a companion of the Fourth Doctor from seasons 14-15. She came from the future, from a tribe called the Sevateem who were descended from a human “survey team” who became separated from their base and had to survive on their own. Leela originally had brown eyes, but after a huge explosion at a lighthouse the pigmentation changed color to blue as the lovely Louise Jameson has blue eyes. Leela is brash, upfront, and confident. She is a skilled hunter, tracker, and warrior. Initially illiterate, she had begun learning to read as the Fourth Doctor was teaching her. Leela was eager to learn and not afraid of experiencing new things. Initially, the Doctor told her she couldn’t travel with him and she invited herself along anyway despite his verdict on the matter and he gave up and let her.
> 
> Leela was also the the companion who carried deadly poisonous Janice thorns and a good knife with her at all times and quickly grew attached to K-9 Mark I when she and the Doctor encountered him. When she met her future husband Andred (a Time Lord), she chose to stay with him on Gallifrey and K-9 Mark I stayed with her. There’s tons more information I could give, but this is enough to understand the story and honestly if you were planning on watching Classic I haven’t completely spoiled it for you this way. 

Rose was humming a pop song from her youth under her breath as she loaded her dirty clothes into a hamper and sauntered toward the laundry room. Once there she turned around to slam her hip against the door to close it, her back toward the room at large. Alone at last, she continued the song with quiet singing of the lyrics. 

_“And if the mountain’s too high I’ll get through it,_

_And if the river’s too wide it won’t stop this dream of mine._

_I’m on my way, I’ve got a plan, _

_I’m making my way any way that I-“_

“You have a beautiful singing voice.” Rose screamed, the basket dropping to the floor as she whirled around to see the Doctor sitting cross-legged on top of the dryer with an extremely amused and cheeky expression on his face. He wrapped his fingers around his trainers and rocked slightly back and forth. The entire action was so entirely child-like that it temporarily threw her for a loop.

“What are you doing here!?” She hissed after mentally regrouping.

“It’s my ship.”

“It’s also laundry day. I had to drag you out from under the couch last month because you tried to hide on me, remember?” 

He shrugged, sliding off of the machine and bouncing on his toes.

“Maybe I wanted to make sure my favorite jumper made it through unscathed.”

“You’re wearing your favorite one right now,” Rose pointed out observantly, eyes narrowing as she squinted suspiciously at him. “What’re you so chipper about, anyway?”

“Maybe I’m just happy,” he countered. “Is that such an impossibility?”

“Impossible? No.” Her head tilted slightly to the side. “But seriously. Happy? About _laundry?_”

“Amongst several other things,” the Doctor muttered evasively, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Where do we start?” Rose blinked, walking over and placing the back of her hand on his forehead. 

“Sure you’re feeling all right?” She asked. “No... psychic pollen or Venusian stardust drifting around in your respiratory system making you act loopy?” 

“No,” the Doctor sighed, exasperated as he lifted her hand from his head and loosely grasped it between them, absently caressing the back of it with his thumb as he spoke with her. “I genuinely want to do the laundry with you. Is that all right?”

“Yeah,” Rose breathed, breath catching. The room wasn’t very large as it wasn’t often used, but today it seemed smaller (and it was, courtesy of a meddling and impatient TARDIS). They were standing very close together. Also seeming to realize this, the Doctor’s eyes widened as he dropped her hand and took a few steps backward. “We uh, we need to start with the whites first,” she whispered.

“...Right.” 

“He doesn’t seem to be acting very oddly to me,” Mags murmured as she and Rose walked down the hall. The Doctor - and subsequently the topic of their conversation - was already in the console room going through the final moments of flight. There was a light shudder throughout the ship as they landed. 

“He was _happy, Mags,_” Rose stressed. “Doing _laundry_. He _hates _doing the laundry.”

“Maybe he just wants to spend more time with you,” Mags suggested, crossing her fingers behind her back. Rose tilted her head slightly as she considered it before shrugging it off. 

“I doubt it. We see each other practically every waking minute of every day.”

“Alone?”

“Why does that matter for anything?”

“Never mind,” Mags sighed. The door to the console room was in sight, so there wasn’t any time to try and plant the idea of requited love. And she’d come so close that first day after the Minotaur, too...

He was obviously, quite painfully actually, in love with her. She was obviously, quite painfully in love with him. Everyone but them saw it. Mags had even thought, for one brief and shining moment, that the truth would come out and there would be a huge love confession over a plate of slightly stale blueberry muffins and lukewarm tea. Not very romantic, but still. It hadn’t happened, and they’d been obliviously dancing around each other ever since. And it was driving her crazy. 

Mags’ quite impressive ability to refrain from strangling some sense into the pair of them was further tested when Rose walked over to get a look at the readings of their destination. She was leaning on the console softly reading the data out loud, the Doctor leaning partially over her to see over her shoulder with his chin resting on the top of her head. 

“Get a room,” she sighed under her breath, so quietly that even she had a hard time hearing it across the room from where they were standing. 

“A festival?” Rose asked, looking up. The Doctor nodded, smiling; the corners of her mouth turned up to match it. “Oh, _nice_. We haven’t been to one of those in ages!”

“Exactly. I thought it was high time we paid a visit to one.”

“What sort of festival?” Mags asked, wandering closer. 

“A Harvest Festival. Attracts the most tourists in the entire solar year. See, three of the five planets in this solar system are habitable, and for each of the planet’s harvest seasons they all flock to the Capital of said planet for a huge cultural melting pot. A mix of ideas, history, goods... it’s how they keep the peace, considering each planet has multiple harvest seasons. The three planets are all inhabited by different dominant species and mostly keep to themselves due to skin tone and sun exposure and what not, but this way they remain connected by something other than trade.”

“They won’t mind outside tourists though, will they?”

“Not in the slightest. Their sun is located close to another star filled with terraformed colony planets. They get outside tourists all the time.”

“Oh, good.” Mags nodded. “No chance of being arrested for being mammalian rather than reptilian like that visit to Caevidian.” 

“Yes, that _was _a rather unfortunate venture...” 

“You seem more knowledgeable about this particular holiday tradition than usual,” Rose said with a bright grin. “Been here before? After? Or are you here now?” The Doctor’s eyes narrowed as he looked at her with suspicion.

“And if I _were_ here now, what would you do about that?”

“Oh, nothing. Just a little... friendly pestering.”

“Uh huh.” He sprang toward the door, pulling his coat on as he did so. “For your information, there shall be no such tempting opportunities for you. I made sure to land a decade after I’d been here last, and on a different host planet to be extra certain.” His eyes rolled toward the ceiling. “I have enough problems right now without running into one of my past selves...”

“Problems like what?” Rose asked, sprinting to catch up and linking their fingers together. Mags huffed in exasperated amusement, feeling very much like the responsible adult chaperone despite being the youngest of the three, and followed after. 

“I always have problems!” He retorted brightly. “But breaking the First Law of Time and having to submit an incident report to Gallifrey will certainly not be one of them if I have my way.”

“You know as well as I do that there’s an Accidental Occurrence Clause,” Rose countered with a role of her eyes. “It’s only if you do it on a regular and intentional basis that you commit a crime.” He beamed at her for her knowledge on temporal travel as if she’d hung the stars for him and Mags decided right then and there to make herself scarce. Staying might make her go stir-crazy, if she were to be honest with herself... 

...Besides, her control over her transformations had become far better with Rose’s near-constant calming presence influencing her and an easy-going day at a fair shouldn’t be too much of a problem. She felt comfortable in such environments after working with Kingpin and Bellboy, and considering that Rose regularly wandered off when they went about their adventures Mags wasn’t too worried about any repercussions. 

With that in mind she slowly dropped back from the pair as the walked ahead and ducked down a side path. Within a few moments she was lost in the crowd, quite pleased with herself. 

“Where’d Mags go?” Rose asked, interrupting the Doctor’s impressive lecture on fun fairs and the fascination with hot air balloons in the 19th century. She’d been quite enjoying herself hearing about the few occasions where the tethers snapped and innocent civilians floated off, never to be seen again. He blinked and turned to look at the busy thoroughfare behind them, frowning and shoving his hands into his pockets as his jaw jutted out slightly. 

“You’re a seriously bad influence on our companions, you know that?” 

“And do _you _know how adorable you look when you pout like that?” The Doctor shot her a petulant glare; Rose well knew how to effortlessly raise his ire and did so whenever the fancy struck. The latest and somewhat surprising development was that he... found he liked it. 

_Adorable_. Synchronous with ‘cute.’ Which some women - more often girls than ladies along the spectrum admittedly - used to casually mention that they found someone attractive. He shook his head slightly to banish such thoughts from his mind because that was a downward spiral he did _not _want to go down lest he develop some sort of complex. She didn’t see him that way. They were best friends, and he could live with that if he had to.

...He just didn’t particularly _want _to. The problem was that the Doctor was fairly certain that, if he told Rose how he felt and she wanted to leave because it had become awkward, it would most likely kill him. He needed her like he needed both hearts. Sure, he could _function _on one, but without both he was essentially useless and in constant pain. He winced, ignoring the odd look she shot him at the action. That analogy hadn’t exactly been one of his best. 

Rose was staring at him now, head tilted slightly to the side in mild and mounting confusion. The Doctor cleared his throat awkwardly and sprang into a trot as they retraced their steps. 

“She can’t have gone far,” he reasoned. Rose made a noncommittal murmur as she kept pace with him and said nothing. “Of course, I concede that there is the issue of the sheer amount of people milling about. One mile could easily turn into ten trying to walk about. Could you track her by scent?”

“I could, but it’d take me a while. Lots of people, lots of food stalls and rubbish bins and livestock pens and the occasional pile of vomit from somebody who went on a ride they shouldn’t have. Too many conflicting smells to give me a clear track, and at that Mags is a hunter herself. She knows how to muddy a trail so that I’d find it near impossible to follow.”

“So what you’re saying is that there’s really no point and we shouldn’t bother ourselves with it,” the Doctor summarized flatly. Rose nodded. “Absolutely fantastic.” 

“This is what you get for taking on companions that are half-feral,” she replied with a cheeky wink and a nudge to his ribs. He rolled his eyes and fought off a grin; a fight he lost easily as the corners of his lips turned up. 

“Neither of you are the first in that category,” he sighed good-naturedly. “I’ve had a couple of friends over the years that lived by the ‘stab first ask questions later’ philosophy. Still, we came here to have a good time. It seems Mags found something that interested her and went to investigate it. We should do the same, don’t you think?” 

“Are you challenging me to darts?” Rose asked with a raise of her eyebrow. “Because I’m warning you in advance that I’m a great shot.” 

“Mm... well, we’ll see who leaves with the highest points in a stuffed tiger shall we?” He growled playfully, waggling his eyebrows and bouncing on the heels of his feet. Rose giggled and wrapped her hands around his arm as they all but skipped off toward the tent games. 

“Ooh, could we name it ‘Hobbes’ regardless of who wins it?”

“As if there were any doubt,” he scoffed. “But in all honesty, this planet doesn’t have tigers. It’ll most likely be a Cartellen, which is a predatory bird here.”

“You _so _owe me a trip to Brighton after this.” 

“Bound and determined, eh?” Rose snorted at that and smirked when she saw the darts booth, tugging lightly on his jacket. 

“Let’s go, Spaceman Spiff. Show me your moves.” The Doctor laughed, entirely carefree and happy, and allowed himself to be dragged over to the games. They soon disappeared in the frenzy of the festival and the eyes watching them moved on toward another location. 

Mags had been having an entirely different experience. She had somehow found herself in an area of the festival advertising makeover routines and new clothing, and before she could properly work out what was going on she’d found herself ensnared by one of the workers looking to make a fat commission. 

It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing by any stretch of the imagination, having her nails and makeup done. It wasn’t her favorite thing, either. There was no way she would ever be doing something like this of her own free will, but... well, the woman quite honestly reminded her of her mother, and _she _had been an un-persuadable force of nature when she had her mind set on something. Mags figured it was best to let her be. 

...She was looking to change up her style anyway. A little help would at least tell her what she _didn’t _want if nothing else. Right? 

Regardless, the poor woman who was bound and determined to give her a makeover hadn’t realized what a task it would be. Cutting Mags’ hair had required insanely strong scissors to combat the protective porcupine quill-like consistency of the upper layer on the back of her head and clipping her nails had broken several pairs of clippers. Eventually the woman settled for simply filing and painting them. As for clothing, Mags chose to keep her fishnets in case of a transformation and automatically selected clothes with stylized rips in them. Her one exception to this was the eggplant purple leather jacket she’d found and she happily paid for the expenses and left an exhausted stylist in her wake. 

There were so many new sights, sounds, and smells to experience and she was loving every minute of it. 

~§§~

“Try this,” Rose said, holding some sort of chilled desert toward the Doctor on the end of a spoon. He sniffed it and raised a skeptical eyebrow. 

“It smells like pears,” he pointed out, wrinkling his nose. She giggled. 

“It doesn’t taste like it, I swear.”

“On what?”

“Hmm?”

“On what do you swear?”

“The continued survival of my lucky TARDIS blue leather jacket.” 

The Doctor nodded once before taking the spoon in his mouth and licking the... sorbet... off of it. His brow furrowed slightly for a few moments as he let his advanced taste buds analyze the flavors and then smoothed as his eyes brightened and he smiled. 

“Oh, that _is _quite good,” he agreed. Rose grinned. 

“Told you. It was a free sample, there’s an ice cream place somewhere around here nearby. Wanna go take a look?” 

“Ah-“ he opened his mouth and then paused, closing it again as he considered something. “Would that detract from any candy floss later in the afternoon?” 

“You are such a sweet tooth,” she sighed with fond exasperation, patting his arm. They began walking in the general direction of the ice cream place. “Don’t know how you manage to avoid getting cavities.” The Doctor shrugged.

“Benefits of superior physiology to humans and a new set of chompers every few centuries or so.” He raised an eyebrow and exhaled loudly through his nose as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Mind you, I had a tooth crack open on me in my first body. Bit down on a hard candy-“

“Told ya.” He knocked her hip with his and sent her stumbling slightly to the side with an indignant squeak.

“Hush. I bit down on a hard candy and I had to see a dentist.” A grimace settled firmly into place at the memory. “Didn’t go at all how I’d intended. I was aiming for the thirty-third century, but back then the navigation system was entirely decrepit. I wasn’t able to fix it until I pulled the console out of the shell to strip it down and put it back together again with all-new interior parts. At any rate, I ended up- well.”

“Where did you end up, Doctor?” Rose asked, a smirk forming. She knew him far too well, really. She might not know _where _this story was going, but she knew it would be somewhere quite frankly ridiculous and 100% _him_. 

“The Gunfight at the O.K. Corral,” he sighed. “And my dentist was none other than Doc Holiday himself.”

Rose’s reaction was even worse than he’d anticipated. She literally threw her head back and cackled like a Hyena, drawing attention from the people nearby and causing him to duck his head into his chest to fight off the blush of embarrassment that the unwanted interest caused. 

“Are you quite done?” 

“I- I just-“ Rose wheezed for breath as she clutched at her side with one arm and his sleeve with the other hand, tears streaming down her face with laughter. “Only you...”

“Said the pot to the kettle,” the Doctor muttered, poking her in the side. “You’re just as bad as I am.”

“Statistically, you’re worse than I am,” she retorted, finally beginning to regain some of her composure. He gaped at her incredulously. 

“Statist- _Rose! _That is such a skewed- The only reason I’m statistically worse is because I have more data to collect from! On a weekly average, we about run even!” Her tongue caught between her teeth in response to that counter-argument and he blinked, refusing to let his gaze fixate on the tiny strip of tempting... well, so much for _that_ valiant effort... He shook himself slightly and refocused on the matter at hand. “And furthermore, you far outnumber me for fatal encounters thank you very much.” 

“Details,” Rose said dismissively, waving a hand. The Doctor could do little more than stare at her. The cheek of this woman... 

“Yes, well. We appear to have arrived,” he murmured flusteredly as he pulled open the door of the tiny little parlor and held it for her. She slipped inside and he after, taking their place in a moderately long but acceptable line. Their fingers meshed together out of long-standing habit and he took in a sharp breath at the contact. 

His species were touch-telepathic, hence the copious amount of layers he always wore in public. Holding Rose’s hand in the way he did resulted in a daily onslaught of foreign emotions not his own but unlike pure strangers her telepathic signature was welcome. He’d come to crave it, if he were honest with himself. And since realizing the depth of his feelings for his lovely companion his mind had been itching to reach out and brush against hers. 

Rose’s warm, sparkling golden happiness against his receptors was like a bubbly balm. A waterfall of champagne pouring over him, chilled perfectly for consumption but exhibiting a sense of warm welcome. Even the small amount of contact they had was more than enough for it to wash over his lonely mind; the hive collective of his species was always a soft and present but distant buzz in his head without true connection no matter whether he was standing in Arcadia’s market district or at the other end of the universe, and the direct presence right beside him had been more than a shock to his system at first. 

He felt he could barely function without it anymore, dependent in some small way ever since she’d cradled his battered psyche in her protective empathic embrace in the dust of what remained the Amazon Rainforest. 

The Doctor was on autopilot as they moved up the line, selected that delicious sorbet that smelled falsely of pears and tasted of passionfruit, paid, and walked back out into the festival. He was content to merely watch her, listening to her comment on the things around them and offering immediate reply with ready information. Outwardly he might exude the appearance of his usual unaffected persona, but internally he was letting his multi-tasking brain _present _that persona while another train of thought babbled happily like a lovesick puppy over the way Rose’s lips puckered slightly when she curled them around her teeth to bite the cold tasty treat they’d purchased. The bright sunshine lighting her hair that was wisping gently in a slight summer wind haloed in golden glow...

...Oh, but he was gone. He’d actively sought to help with the laundry because it gave him an excuse to make fleeting touches of fingertips in the bins, to inhale her scent and revel in her human heat as they shuffled past each other in the very small (and suspiciously smaller than usual) space-

“Your trousers are on fire.”

“_What!?_” The Doctor yelped, glancing down in alarm and then glancing up at Rose. She merely raised an eyebrow and dug her spoon around in the cup with the sorbet, once again slightly puckering her lips to curl them and protect her teeth from the cold as she stuck the spoon in her mouth. 

“You were entire star systems away,” she said a few moments later after she’d swallowed. “What’s up?” 

“Nothing,” he sighed, digging into his own frozen delicacy. When it was obvious she didn’t believe him he added, “leastwise nothing you could help me with. Internal debate, really. And entirely pointless to discuss unless you happen to be me.”

“Bet you’re wishing you _did _pilot us to a time where another you was then,” Rose said brightly. The Doctor suppressed a shudder, the mere idea of explaining just how lovestruck a fool he was to his former selves an absolute nightmare of vast proportions, and hid it behind taking a ludicrous bite of the sorbet. “Don’t do that, you’ll get brain freeze.”

“My species doesn’t get brain-“ he cut off his own sentence and stared at her in surprise. “Wait. You’re telling me you can survive being run over by a train, but you still-“

“_Any_way,” Rose said hastily, tugging insistently on his hand to drag him somewhere new and change the subject. When he didn’t move she sighed, recognizing she’d been caught by the mischievous glint in his eyes. “No. We are not having this conversation.”

“What conversation?” Mags asked, trotting up to them seemingly from out of nowhere. Her appearance was enough of a statement that Rose was able to focus on it with no small degree of relief. 

“Let me guess, local fair salon shark get her claws into you?” Mags blushed and nodded, tugging self-consciously on her newly-tamed hair. 

“She reminded me of my mother,” she said in a small voice. 

“It looks really nice, it’s great,” Rose assured with a wide smile. “And I love the jacket.” She cast a side glance at the Doctor, who winced. “You’re not the only one around here who could use a trim...”

“Don’t even think about it,” he growled. “I like my hair just the way it is.”

“You _never _cut your hair into any other style after you regenerate,” she grumbled. He raised an eyebrow.

“And that’s a crime?”

“More a judgement of character,” a new voice said unexpectedly. Rose’s head jerked around as her nostrils flared, Mags stiffening in readiness for whatever she might be needed for, but the Doctor whirled around with wide eyes and a big gaping smile.

“Leela!” He paled suddenly. “There isn’t a man running around with an overly long scarf offering the general populace Jelly Babies, is there?” Leela laughed as she stepped more properly into view from the fountain she’d been lurking behind. Instead of wearing animal hide as she had done when traveling with him she was dressed in tight tan slacks with wide, open seams loosely pulled together and tall hunting boots. A tunic of similar style that was tied at the waist and ended just below the hip harkened to her tribal warrior roots but allowed her to blend in with the other tourists of the fair, and her long brown hair was left to float around her face and frame a pair of cunning but warm dark blue eyes.

Rose blinked upon seeing her, noting the Doctor relax immediately as he seemed to realize she came from a point in the timeline after she’d traveled with him. She relax because he did, Mags relaxing because she had. The Doctor was beaming so widely that she thought either his face would burst into flame from the brightness or his face would simply split in two, but despite this he made no effort to move to embrace her. 

“No, there is not another Doctor on the loose somewhere, _Doctor_,” Leela replied with a soft, amused shake of her head. By this point she had joined their little group and was looking her friend over with a critical eye. “I had heard that you had regenerated from Andred during that whole Omega problem, but seeing it for myself...”

“I trust you approve?” He asked with a smug tilt of his head. Leela rolled her eyes. 

“You have lost much height and presence in one,” she retorted blithely, eyes skittering over to Rose as the other woman poorly masked her snort of laughter at the comment. “I do not believe we have met.”

“I’m Rose Tyler,” Rose explained, offering her hand in handshake. Leela’s head tilted slightly as she studied the gesture before she completed her portion of it. “Doctor’s mentioned ya. Stayed on Gallifrey when humans weren’t allowed and they let ya, met your Mate, took the metal dog with you.” Her eyebrows waggled. “Repeatedly threatened to stab him in his sleep if he pissed you off one too many times.”

“I have a feeling I will like you,” Leela decided before turning toward Mags. “And you are?”

“Mags. Don’t know these two half as well as you seem to know him, but I’m learning.” Mags eyed the newcomer up and down. “You seem to be a formidable ally and a nightmare of a foe.” 

“As do you. The both of you, actually. Doctor, why-“

“Leela, not that I haven’t thoroughly enjoyed this reunion,” the Doctor coughed, interrupting a potentially-embarrassing line of inquiry, “but why are you here?”

“To stop a murder,” she replied simply. “I was intending to go by myself, but since you happen to be here...” a slow smile spread across her face and Rose matched it knowingly. There was no way he could say no, now that he was curious. And judging by the resigned expression on his face he knew it, too. 

“What do you say, Doctor? For old times’ sake?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Rose was singing at the start was called “Making My Way” and was performed by none other than Billie Piper herself, so if you follow the link below you’ll get Rose singing. While Billie Piper isn’t ‘my heart stopped it was so amazing’ good of a singer, she has a very nice voice and I really have to wonder why it isn’t used more as a part of Rose’s character in fanfiction considering almost everyone automatically assumes Jimmy Stone was part of a deadbeat band to begin with for some reason. 
> 
> https://youtu.be/VTznV5yy-yg
> 
> Also, that thing about hot air balloons? Before you snicker and say ‘unrealistic’ that happened to a great-great grandfather of mine. Went up in a hot air balloon at the county fair, tether snapped, floated off. Never found out what happened. They think he was either shot by moonshiners who were drunk enough to think he was a Fed or came down in the trees of the woods and a branch snap his neck. It was just the sort of weird nonsense that would show up in passing in Doctor Who.
> 
> I found this recently as well, and it blew my mind...  
https://ask-the-almighty-google.tumblr.com/post/618283844838326272/how-long-is-this-fic-really-a-guide
> 
> ...Everybody, I have officially written more than Tolkien’s “The Two Towers” as of this chapter. I’m not even half done with this fic yet and nowhere close to finishing the anticipated series for several more fics after... 😳 ...I’m not entirely sure what to do with this information.


	26. Hunt of the Champions II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FULL DISCLAIMER: If anyone here is a complete Leela stan and notices that the character isn’t 100% perfect in the next three chapters I apologize. Four is unequivocally my least favorite Doctor (I have no ill will toward him and genuinely like the content, but it doesn’t really do anything for me in the way the other Classic Doctors do forgetting New for the moment) so I have only ever watched his stuff through once. 
> 
> I watched all of the Leela content again before writing this chapter, but... again, the Fourth Doctor era doesn’t do much for me so my attention wandered. I fully intend on giving the Big Finish series “Gallifrey” a listen once I get some money, so she and Romana would both be written well and in-character in any future potential appearances, but for now... I just want to apologize in advance if she isn’t as in character as some would like. I tried my hardest, and if you spot something I fully encourage you to tell me what I did wrong so I can correct it in future. PLEASE. If I messed up, tell me so I can fix it. I’m winging this one and I don’t like it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was scrolling through my Tumblr and FOUND THIS LONG FORGOTTEN 3:00AM POST I MADE LITERALLY TWO YEARS BEFORE “Something of the Wolf” HAD EVEN ENTERED MY HEAD AS A NEBULOUS STORY CONCEPT:
> 
> https://ask-the-almighty-google.tumblr.com/post/179322100526/a-rose-by-any-other-name-doctor-who
> 
> Apparently I have always been a Five/Rose sap whether I regard them as platonic or romantic and just never realized how deeply I was...
> 
> Key notes on pronunciation: There will be many names that crop up in this that are spelled weird. Only two are main characters for the arc. The first is ‘Jetriin’ (JET-REEN), and the second is ‘Reynar’ (RAY-NARR). This has been a PSA.

“You’ve changed your apparel,” the Doctor remarked politely as he and Leela traversed the busy thoroughfare. Mags and Rose had taken the other main street with the intent to canvass the area before both teams met up in the large park and there had been a slightly awkward but not uncomfortable silence between the two old friends. 

“As have you,” Leela replied, leaning over pointedly and picking the celery off of his coat before tossing it into some nearby shrubs. She let his exclamation of indignance go unnoticed. “One should not wear the food of prey on their lapels, Doctor.” 

“I put that on fresh just this morning,” he whined, shoulders slumping. Casting her a petulant scowl he straightened his coat and added, “how’s Domestic Life?” 

Leela stopped dead, looked him straight in the eye, and rolled her eyes. 

“You tell me.” She all but _smirked _atthe words, content to watch the color simultaneously drain from his face and attempt to rise from the neck to the ears at the same time. In the end pale pallor won out over the blossoming blush. He started walking again in quick, long strides that she matched. With her shorter height the walk was a tad comical but she wasn’t bothered. This one was about four inches shorter than the last one. 

“I have no idea what you’re referring to,” the Doctor sniffed airily.

“Oh, I‘m sure.” Leela’s expression softened and she dropped the cagey attitude, laying a surprisingly gentle hand on his arm. “I had been watching, Doctor. I saw how you are with Rose.” He ducked his head and lightly pulled away. They resumed walking. “There is no shame in it. She is smart, capable, and beautiful, and she makes you happy.” 

“Leela, it’s not- it’s not that,” he sighed. “Because she is. It’s...”

“Andred explained to me shortly after we married that he was part of the rare exception to Time Lord society.” Her head tilted slightly to the side in question and he shook his in response.

“I’ve never bothered with any of that, Leela. You know that. Have you not bonded, then?”

“I’m not telepathic enough for a bond. But you are avoiding answering my question.” 

“And I will continue to do so,” he retorted flatly. She blinked. His last incarnation would have bombastically exclaimed the words with wild eyes, an untamed mane of curls, and either a toothy grin or a wide scowl depending on his current and ever-changing mood. This one... he was much more reserved. ‘Grown up,’ was a term she would use, despite his physical age being younger. Something had happened to make him lose some of that childish innocence he raced through the universe with, and quite honestly she was afraid as to what terrible thing could manage to do that. 

...Death, was the most obvious answer. And the identity of the person who... 

...Best not to dwell upon it. The Doctor had never been particularly forthcoming in the emotional department when they traveled together, and Leela highly doubted that would change simply with a regeneration. Her good friend, Lady Rodan, had gone through one recently and the core personality of who she was had not changed. Truly, Leela hadn’t seen him so emotionally vulnerable until that afternoon when he was alone with Rose, which only served to bring the point home to her that he was entirely smitten over her. 

But they had more important things to dwell upon, and trying to get answers out of him would make beating her head against a stone wall in the hopes of breaking through it a more achievable task. She changed the subject. 

“So, the Tournament lasts for two days. We have a little less than a day to find the murderer and I have very little information on why this is important. All they would tell me was that it had to do with timelines, and gave a vague description of the woman I need to save. I had to pull the reason for her importance out of Narvin as if I were pulling teeth. Had to threaten to do so to him to get the information, as a matter of fact.”

“Why _did _they send you?” The Doctor asked to no one in particular, looking thoughtful. “Statistically, if this _is _an issue pertaining to timelines as you say, then it makes sense to send an agent of the CIA to deal with it. You must have a specific quality that makes you the better candidate.”

“If they read the... lines, correctly, then they might have known you would be here to handle the time sense problems,” Leela suggested, smiling triumphantly as she continued along her line of deductive reasoning and noting that the Doctor seemed quite proud of her for it. “In which case, we are familiar with one another and trust each other, making the mission easy.”

“Yes, they don’t have to lift a finger because they’re once again using me as their dogsbody,” he mused.

“You do not have the body of a dog,” Leela pointed out, head tilting slightly to the side in confusion. “In either your form or the fact that you carry the carcass of a deceased creature around with you.”

“It’s synonymous with the expression ‘errand boy,’” the Doctor explained. Her expression cleared.

“Oh, you mean that they are making you do things that no one wants to do because you have no say in the matter,” she summarized. He nodded. “What does a dog have to do wi-“

“I’ll explain at another time, Leela. But I think I’ve just spotted our quarry.” He pointed and they both quickened their step to follow.

~§§~

Leela had come to them with a fairly simple story and request. She was on special assignment from Gallifrey to track down and apprehend a murderer before said murderer could kill their target, which was to one day in the future be an influential figurehead of the region. At present the woman in question was a low-level event organizer for the big festival and secretary to the most powerful man in the solar system; her access to his calendar was the appeal. The murderer wanted a look at it and the best way to get it was to take out the woman safeguarding it thinking her an inconvenient and unimportant figure in history.

“Just goes to show,” Mags murmured, drawing Rose out of her musings. 

“What?”

“That everybody has unseen potential,” Mags elaborated. Rose blinked, then nodded. They had apparently been thinking along very similar lines of thought. 

“The best way to work all this out would simply be to uh... make a _toy _out of the guy,” Rose suggested with a mischievous raise of her eyebrow.

“Chew him out a little,” Mags agreed with a smirk and a nod. “I get the feeling Leela would agree. Poor Doctor. Outnumbered by all the women in his life at the moment.”

“Including the TARDIS,” Rose laughed. She blinked as the wind changed direction; as one, both women raised their heads to scent the air with flaring nostrils before exchanging a look. Leela had been kind enough to have a blood sample of the woman they were looking for on hand - stolen from records without authorization thank you very much - in case the Doctor could use it to lock onto her biosignature and both had taken a good whiff. Without exchanging so much as a glance they fell into a hunting pattern, Rose in the lead and Mags trailing slightly behind. Different species or not, the Wolves within them operated on nearly-uniform signals and instincts that made hunting together all but painless in transition.

They followed the scent trail past several market stalls with eerie focused purpose, pausing when the crowded streets opened up into a courtyard. She was sitting on the edge of a fountain busily scrawling through a notebook with harried vigor, her shimmering scarlet dress and golden shawl denoting her status as a lowly public servant. It wasn’t her gorgeous apparel that caught their interest, however.

“Rose...” 

“I saw.” 

After checking to make sure that no one was observing them, Rose and Mags approached the young woman. She looked up at them, pushing her glasses up her nose as whiskey brown eyes regarded them apprehensively. Honey gold hair fell in whisps from a braided bun that was mostly covered by the shawl. 

“Can I help you?” She asked warily, her voice identical to Rose’s aside from the highly posh accent.

“Maybe we can help you,” Rose countered, matching her accent with little effort. The two doppelgängers regarded one another for a few moments before the woman’s shoulders slumped. 

“Are you here to kill me?”

“Here to _save you_.” 

“If you and Rose switch places...” Mags suggested, an idea forming in her head as she said it. “I can keep you protected. She can find your would-be murderer. All you have to do is... swap clothes.”

“Why? Why would you do this for a complete stranger?” 

“Consider it advance payment for the future,” Rose murmured, studying the complicated lay of the garments on the other woman with tactical assessment. “What’s your name?” 

“Je- Jetriin,” she stuttered, swallowing. Hope blossomed in her tense features. “You really mean it? You’ll help me?”

“Yes,” Rose breathed, smiling widely as she took Jetriin’s arm and gently steered her toward the nearest clothing store. She ushered the three of them past the clothing racks with the utter assurance of someone who had once worked retail straight toward the changing rooms; Mags paced outside of the one that Rose and Jetriin occupied as they swapped outfits and blinked when they re-emerged. Her heightened sense of smell easily told her which was which, but without that... 

“You’re indistinguishable,” she said, nodding approval. “I think you could even fool the Doctor. Well. You know. If he wasn’t in love with you and knew all of quorum tiny quirks by heart.” 

“He’s not in love with me,” Rose countered, rolling her eyes before laughing and smiling as she adjusted Jetriin’s shawl to better cover her hair. “And besides, he’s a quick study. Only way to fool him is if Jetriin is as good of an actress as I am.” Jetriin’s eyes flashed with mischief and challenge as she zipped up Rose’s favorite blue leather jacket, one hand resting on her hip. 

“Dunno, I think it could work,” she decided, roughing up her accent to match Rose’s typical one as they walked from the store. “I did theatre in secondary school. Really enjoyed it...”

“So why did you get into politics?” Mags asked, curious. Jetriin rolled her eyes. 

“My father had no son to take his senate seat,” she muttered dismissively. “So I substituted. Unfortunately, misogyny is in style this century for the old Terran Colonies. Last century it was frilly hats with big feathers. Who knows? Maybe next century people will think garters are all the rage...”

“I like you.” 

“I like you too.”

“Good, the two of you will have to bond a bit while I do some sneaky espionage,” Rose sighed, pulling Jetriin’s glasses out of an interior pocket from her light satiny robes and plopping them on her nose. She blinked in surprise as her eyes adjusted to see perfectly out of the prescription lenses. “...Yeah, that’s weird. Anyway. I need a crash course in any and all information you should know off the top of your head.”

“Everything you’ll need is in my calendar notebook,” Jetriin promised, handing the book over. Rose nodded, drawing it into her robes and hiding it deep in the pockets. She would read it once she got back to the office which her double had given the address for while they were changing. “Good luck.”

“Yeah, cheers,” Rose muttered as she turned away from the pair and walked purposefully through the festival toward the tall brick and stucco buildings in the distance. She wove through shimmering cloth and a kaleidoscope of skin colors ranging from alabaster white flesh to ebony black scales, purples and greens and stripes and everything else one could imagine as the in betweens. Frilled feathers on heads instead of hair, taloned fingers and fanged teeth. Three major planets, seven major species. Jetriin’s people just happened to be guests from the neighboring system, recently colonized by humans leaving an uninhabitable Earth in droves in Arks and floating cities. She worked attaché for the embassy in the trade department.

She needn’t have worried about finding the right building; it was the only one that painfully resembled the architecture of her own home time period. Nestled amongst beautiful colored glass and stucco was chrome and concrete to present a pretty but bland exterior and cover up a multitude of architectural sins that compromised the integrity of the structure. 

Heavy glass doors opened onto swirled grey marble floor and Rose winced when Jetriin’s somewhat ill-fitting heels clicked with each step she took. She preferred her rubber soled boots or a good pair of trainers due to their muffling quality if she stepped right, but there was no way to stifle the equivalent of a pair of pumps. Well... there was. But she didn’t have time to do so and she highly doubted that Jetriin took the effort to do so in the first place. 

As Jetriin had promised, her employer’s office was easy to find. 37th floor, huge glass window front, mahogany hardwood floors, expensive wood furniture. Most people used synthetic nowadays but all of it was genuine to show just how much money he had at his disposal. The man in question was of an unassuming nature, neither good nor bad Rose determined but definitely a part of the system perpetuating problems. He had sun-kissed skin, dark eyes and slicked-back naturally curly black hair, his eyebrows plucked and his nails neatly manicured. In many ways, he reminded her of a young Temuerra Morrison. An expensive and obviously Terran style of suit of light grayish-purple fit snugly to his unassuming form and contrasted beautifully against the small allowance of local culture he had consented to wear on his person, which was a dark scarlet ceremonial scarf. 

“Jetriin, do you have the contact information for the Adarian Embassy?” He asked without looking up. 

“Yes, sir,” Rose answered meekly, frowning as she turned a slow circle and breathed a light sigh of relief when she spotted what was in hindsight quite obviously a secretarial desk. 

The man sighed and put down the papers he had been looking at, leaning backwards in his seat and steeping his fingers as he looked at her. “Jetriin, please. We’ve been over this. Just call me Reynar?”

“Of course sir,” Rose retorted, smiling slightly and looking over her shoulder at him as she rifled about in Jetriin’s desk before coming back with a contacts tablet. He matched her ghost of a smile and sighed good-naturedly, going back to his work. A few moments later Rose was handing him the tablet and he was scribbling the information down. 

“A lot of trees contribute to this place,” Rose mused as she eyed the stacks of paper on the solid oak desk. 

“Not my idea,” Reynar muttered, lip curling in distaste. “My mother would smack me so hard our potential grandchildren could feel it if it were.”

“Isn’t working for a corrupt system just as bad?” She countered, pointedly ignoring the word ‘our’ and wondering just what it implied about Jetriin’s relationship with her employer.

“‘If there’s a fire you’re trying to douse, you can’t put it out from inside the house,’” he quoted with a rueful smile. “I’ve sent countless paperless proposals on the subject and at each budget meeting point out that millions, if not billions, of credits could be saved per _quarter _if the company were to go entirely digital.” He tapped his temple. “Street smarts, Jetriin. Play by their rules and put it in a way they can understand. Best way to alter mindsets.”

“A good old bonfire would do the trick too,” Rose mused. Reynar laughed. 

“I suppose.” He leaned back in his seat and pointed toward a mound of paperwork on her own desk. “But for now, it’s back to the grind.” 

Rose sighed, nodded, and padded with a wince at each click of heel to Jetriin’s desk. She sat herself down, thanked her lucky stars her espionage skills from a brief stint with MI-6 hadn’t rusted away entirely, and quickly familiarized herself with the layout before getting to work. 

...This was kind of nostalgic, actually. It made her think wistfully of stakeouts in rental cars with O.

After a few hours of dull office maintenance something exciting happened. There was a loud explosion in the marketplace below and as she looked out the huge bank of windows her view was obscured by an immense cloud of multi-colored confetti. Determining that the chaos probably had the Doctor written all over it and mindful of the fact that he could very well look after himself, Rose returned to her work. She was starting to see why an assassin had been hired to kill Reynar with Jetriin being a supposedly unimportant casualty; the man was a quiet and influential activist who supported women’s liberties and genuinely, it seemed, wanted to reassert a status quo based on skill level rather than lined pockets. The status quo of survival on ships barely capable of flight. Absolute power and all that, but Reynar was one of the good guys. 

~§§~

The confetti hadn’t been his fault. 

Or, more accurately, it was his fault after Leela pushed him into a corner with it. 

They’d been spotted by the assassin they’d been tracking and found, to their chagrin, that she had arrived with friends. Nasty friends. Friends who had been heading their way. So, in a move causing sheer dismay on his part, Leela had drawn her knife and given chase to the assassin before they lost her. Her friends had attacked immediately. The local law enforcement were called in, and in the confusion created by a cloud of confetti erupting all across the city he’d tried to grab Leela and make a getaway. 

Unfortunately he’d forgotten his friend’s tendency to stab first and ask questions later, unable to reach her before she was taken by the opposing side as a spitting and furious hostage. His pause had led to the police finding him and charging him with several counts of disrupting the peace - a charge he was all too painfully familiar with in the first place. 

So, no. Currently sitting in a cell waiting to be released because they’d taken his sonic and even the spare bobby pins Rose stashed in his coat was not his idea of fun at all, and he quite frankly didn’t feel he was deserving of it as he was on the many other occasions such a thing had occurred. 

The Doctor alternated between pacing the tiny cell they’d shoved him in and sitting cross-legged in a meditative pose, working through the various problems that had cropped up over the span of a half an hour. Truly remarkable. He was in prison, Leela was a hostage (though admittedly a hostile and fully capable one), and the assassin had escaped. Hopefully Rose and Mags had done better. 

And so he simmered, angry with himself for letting himself get caught and at Leela for putting them in that situation in the first place. But mostly with himself. It had been a long time for him since they’d traveled together and he was rusty at the dynamic. Not to mention that the dynamic would undoubtedly be different as he was a very different man both in personality and physique. 

The door at the end of the hall opened about an hour and a half after the confetti incident with a truly terrific - in the horrid sense of the word - squeal of un-oiled hinges as Mags and Rose walked toward him behind a security guard.

“Got you signed into our custody,” Rose said with a flirty but non-tongue-touched smile, raising an eyebrow at the guard and frowning slightly as he moved her none too politely out of his way. “Rude.” 

“Do you want your friend out of his cell or not?” The man retorted flatly. It was clear his work shift was almost over and he no longer cared enough to be polite. 

“Anyway, we tracked down the target of the assassin,” Mags piped up as the door opened and the Doctor darted through it like a cat escaping to the spring outdoors after being cooped inside all winter. They walked past the front desk - where he was unceremoniously delivered his personal effects - and out into the festival at large. “Her name’s Jetriin, and we followed her to see where her office is. Planning on dropping by to stake out her house tonight to keep a watch.”

“Interesting, considering she’s standing right next to you,” the Doctor remarked when they were out of earshot of the police precinct. He leaned against a streetlight and crossed his arms, staring at them and all but daring either to contradict him. “You put up a good facsimile of Rose my dear, but you’re not her. Smile’s all wrong, your gait as you walk, the there’s more brown than gold in your eyes, hair a little too blonde, and your timelines...” he winced as they brushed against his in the manner associated with a temporary encounter rather than the smooth, well-established, and interwoven feel of Rose’s next to his own and he blinked to clear his thoughts. “So if you’re Jetriin, I take it Rose is pretending to be you?”

“Told you he’d spot the switch,” Mags muttered with a roll of her eyes as Jetriin gaped. “Absolutely besotted with her, that one.” The Doctor ducked his head and coughed as he felt his face heat and turned to scan the nearby park.

“Leela and I found the assassin, but she had friends. Leela’s been taken hostage.”

“Is your friend all right?” Jetriin asked. She was using her own accent, for which he was immeasurably grateful because it made her sound less like Rose, and he smiled at her waving a hand dismissively.

“Leela is from a tribe of frontier wilderness warriors,” he explained. “She’s never without a set of severely poisonous projectiles and a sharp hunting knife.” His head tilted slightly to the side as he considered. “I feel somewhat bad for her captors, actually. Statistically, one of them has been stabbed by now.” 

“Can she stay with us for a week or twelve?” Mags all but begged, her expression softening into a slight pout as she tilted her head downward to give him puppy dog eyes. 

“I think her mate might have an issue with that,” the Doctor laughed. “Andred, from what little I saw of him - and admittedly I saw quite a lot more when apparently saving Gallifrey that I am unfortunately not allowed to remember - seems to be the type of person to keep what’s his nearby if he can help it. He’ll be missing her after a week, let alone twelve. Might come searching.”

“That’s what memos are for,” Mags retorted with an eye roll. “And besides, I don’t think Leela would allow herself to be called someone’s anything. She belongs only to herself.”

“Too right.” 

“Ooh...” they both turned toward Jetriin as she groaned and grimaced. “I forgot to tell Rose something really important.”

“That being...?” The Doctor asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“What time does your landlady get back from the theatre this evening?” Reynar asked. Rose yelped, spinning in his loose arms when his hot breath ghosted across her neck to find that they were nose to nose. His hands settled on her waist in a respectful but grounding manner. 

“I don’t know,” Rose gasped in response. She swallowed uncomfortably. “Why do you ask?”

“I want to see my girlfriend tonight, if she’s willing,” he chuckled, bending down for a kiss. Rose stiffened slightly before submitting to his lips pressing against hers, remembering the not so fun part of her stint as a spy being the simulated domestics. 

“I need to take work home tonight,” she countered tactfully when he withdrew. She spared a glance over Reynar’s shoulder and swallowed. “And those security cameras won’t stay off forever.”

“Quite right, miss Jetriin. Thank you for bringing that to my attention,” he said, quickly adjusting his suit and backpedaling with a guilty glance at the corner of the room. “They’ve been off all month and I’d quite forgotten they were to be fixed this morning.” 

“Good thing I keep track of your itinerary then,” she breathed, relaxing from her coiled spring position only when he was seated behind his desk again. He nodded curtly. 

“A good thing indeed.” 

Rose sank down into her seat and bit her lip until it bled, grimacing at his scent on her person. He was nice, sure, but... he wasn’t... oh, well. Wishful thinking. 

~§§~

It was dark when she walked toward Jetriin’s home address. Mags had promised to gather up Leela and the Doctor before meeting her there for the evening, and she was cautious as she moved from streetlight to streetlight. The festival was still in full swing without any sign of stopping and rather than the numbers making her feel safe Rose worried about unforeseen strangers lurking in the general populace. The sound made it hard to listen for potential followers and the smells made it impossible to keep her wits about her; in short, it was a nightmare. 

Paranoia settled in and she quickened her step as much as possible without making it appear that she was hurrying. When at last the residential quarter came into view she heaved a great sigh of relief and took the steps of the flat building two at a time, punching in the code at the outer door and scurrying up to the seventh floor to door number 711. 

The flat was small but functional with what appeared to be a conscious choice in minimalist design rather than an unwelcome lifestyle, studio designed with the bedroom on a loft floor overlooking the kitchen and big bank of windows overlooking the city. Mags and Jetriin were chatting amiably on the large couch in the living room, the Doctor pacing in the small office nook near the bathroom. He turned upon hearing her step at the door and his face broke into a wide grin as he crossed the room in long, quick steps and hugged her tight. Habitually, Rose hugged back.

“You smell like a jail cell,” she laughed, nose wrinkling. “What’ve you been up to?” She blinked when he stiffened.

The scent of another male was quite literally all over her. His shampoo, his aftershave, his cologne... traces of saliva around her mouth giving off purely human chemicals. The Doctor hated it. He inhaled deeply to school his features as he withdrew from their embrace and smiled, shrugging. 

“It was Leela’s fault I got arrested,” he explained. Rose’s brow furrowed as she gave him a once-over, not buying his act for a second, and he sighed softly as she turned to approach Jetriin. His shoulders slumped when her back was to him. 

“Where’s Leela now?” Rose asked, unhooking her shawl and dropping it on the end table. Jetriin had long since retired in her own evening clothes, Rose’s outfit on the arm of the couch. His jaw dropped as she let the shimmering folds of the dress glide down to reveal her mismatched and modest bra and knickers and he quickly turned his head to look in the other direction, swallowing. 

In all truth she should have zero problem undressing in front of him and clearly felt that way; her bikinis that she wore when they went to the beach revealed far more than her underwear and the other people in the room were females. It was, to put it mildly, nothing none of them hadn’t seen before in some variation. It also stung a bit that she wasn’t self-conscious about undressing due to the fact that they were such close... platonic... _painfully platonic... _friends...

“Le-“ he choked and swallowed again before restarting. “Leela got caught by the assassin’s compatriots. Took her hostage.” Rose turned back toward him and sighed when she saw him getting up close and personal with a blank wall rather than watching her. Respect for her modesty had taken an odd turn from mildly conscientious to prudish in the past few weeks for seemingly no reason that she could tell and while oddly endearing it was also exasperating. If she weren’t so determined to pretend their relationship was entirely exclusively friendly his inability to act that way would be pleasant. 

He turned sharply when she tapped him on the shoulder and made such a desperate effort to keep eye contact that she had to suppress a shudder at the focus.

“Where is she now?” She asked pointedly, stepping away and rolling her eyes when his gaze diverted immediately to the ceiling. 

“Not sure. But knowing her they aren’t happy with their choice in captive.” He blinked at the by now-familiar sound of her favorite jacket zipping up and heaved a sigh of relief as she sat on the floor to tie her boots, turning his full attention on her. “Anyway, not much we can do about that this evening. Jetriin was kind enough to order takeout and I picked your favorite fallback option. Should be here any minute.”

“Cheers.” 

Precisely on schedule, the food arrived and Mags watched the Doctor and Rose quietly converse in the corner as Jetriin pulled plates out of the cupboards while she set the food out at the dining table. As they sat down to eat Rose’s nostrils flared and her eyes widened. She took a bite of her food before abruptly shoving the entire table across the room and separating everyone from their meals.

“Almonds,” she growled. “Cyanide.”

“Jetriin, what did the delivery person look like?” The Doctor asked anxiously. Her eyes were wide.

“She was about Mags’ height, light brown hair, dark purple eyes...” 

“She’s more clever than I thought,” he muttered, standing to pace the room. “You order from that restaurant every single Tuesday, yes?”

“Yes.” 

“So she knew to poison your food as you had it on standby order. She followed Rose back from the office and intercepted the usual delivery person. Assuming you had guests, she doused it all.” A choice expletive that didn’t translate was ground through clenched teeth as he ran his fingers frantically through already-tousled hair. “They know you’re being protected and want to eliminate all of us.”

“But- but why?” Jetriin stammered. “I mean, I knew someone was after me- don’t ask how, I’ve always been neurotic about dastardly plots after my father the senator had an ‘accident’ skiing.”

“They weren’t after you, they were after your calendar book,” Rose muttered, drawing the thing out of her jacket where she’d transferred it and hefting it for good measure. 

“They wanted Reynar,” Jetriin breathed. 

“Yeah. Woulda been nice to know you had an office romance going, by the way.” Rose cast the Doctor a curious glance when a soft growl rumbled in his chest and frowned when he crossed his arms over his chest and pointedly stared out the window. After a few moments she shrugged. 

“Why is Reynar so important?” He asked.

“He’s pretty much the only advocate in the most influential company in the system for progressive reform,” Rose explained offhandedly. “The company pretty much runs the government.”

“Pleasant.” 

“Ditto.” 

“Where would be the most likely place for them to keep Leela?” He asked, turning to Jetriin. She blinked.

“Their most profitable business is import and export,” she said slowly. “And headquarters is back at the colony. Your friend is likely on board one of the ships.”

“Then isn’t it lucky I booked us all a shuttle flight over?” Reynar’s voice said amusedly from the doorway. They all swung around in surprise and he grinned. Slow, measured steps brought him directly in front of Rose. “I knew you weren’t Jetriin after that kiss. She does this thing with her fingers in my hair-“

“They _really _don’t need to know about that,” Jetriin interrupted as both she and Rose blushed. His smile softened as he strode over to his actual girlfriend and she fell into his arms. 

“We’ll get to the bottom of this, Jet. I promise. Then these very nice people can go home, and you and I can work together to bring about reform just like we always wanted. What do you say?”

“Sounds like a deal,” the Doctor huffed irritably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who only watch New Who, Time Lady Rodan only appeared in the Fourth Doctor Season 15 finale story “The Invasion of Time.” She helped Leela on Gallifrey along with Andred - who would become Leela’s husband. The two became good friends after Leela stayed on Gallifrey, but she has not been mentioned since except briefly in prose no longer considered canonical. A pity; she showed great promise as a character...
> 
> Additionally, the CIA stands for “Celestial Intervention Agency” and basically acts like a time and space traveling version of the American agency under the same acronym. Yeah. It’s a scary thought. 
> 
> Credit for the quote Reynar made goes to Lin-Manuel Miranda’s “Hamilton.” Yes, I headcanon it survives far into the distant future. Absolute legend. And, not that any of you were wondering, but Jetriin’s flat number is in fact named after the gas station chain. Why? Because I’ve gone mad with power. Heeheehee.


	27. Hunt of the Champions III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TBH this entire story arc is just poking fun at the obliviousness of the adorable idiots in quote “unrequited love” unquote. Do imagine finger quotes sarcastically accompanying this. Five is a walking disaster trying to hide his feelings and is unintentionally messing up Rose’s ability to desperately pretend everything is normal. Literally everyone else picks up on it. Mags. Jetriin. Reynar. Leela. Extra unnamed company staff. Fake office plants. The harmless flirting and embarrassment has skyrocketed. It’s 100% ridiculous and I really needed something to be 100% ridiculous as of late, and some of my readers have said the same... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have some housekeeping to do with image references, so here they are:
> 
> Just an observation I made...
> 
> https://ask-the-almighty-google.tumblr.com/post/619483064941395968/50-legg-leggy-boi
> 
> And yet another observation...
> 
> https://ask-the-almighty-google.tumblr.com/post/619602893319946240/imagine-if-someone-introduced-any-version-of-the
> 
> And yet ANOTHER observation (though this one gives you guys a good visual of the main style of uniforms to be worn by background OCs...
> 
> https://ask-the-almighty-google.tumblr.com/post/619694513758388224/its-late-at-night-and-i-am-very-tired-but-i-have
> 
> ./*\\.
> 
> Time stamping this so future readers will understand exactly what I’m saying here...
> 
> This chapter was posted on 06/05/2020.
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to evilpuppyofdoom. Stay safe in Minneapolis. I worry for you.

“I get the feeling you don’t like me.”

_Understatement of the century_, the Doctor thought dryly. Aloud he said, “I have no ill will toward you whatsoever Reynar. You seem a decent chap and we happen to agree on all of the things you campaign for.”

“Then why don’t you like me?” Reynar asked, smirking. The Doctor groaned. They were trapped in the cramped cabin of a company shuttle on their way to the colony world and he had nowhere to go. Trapped in the cockpit with Reynar as the primary pilot being accustomed to the model and the Doctor as copilot - which meant he pretty much just sat there wishing he were somewhere else. 

“I don’t know you. There’s a difference.”

“You seem to not like me a whole lot for someone you’ve only just met. Prejudiced much? Is it my species?” 

“You kissed Rose,” the Doctor finally snapped irritably. Reynar snickered. 

“Oh. So this is about me making a move on your _girl_.” He arched an eyebrow. “Who, I might remind you, was at the time pretending to be _my _girl. See the issue there?”

“She’s not my _girl_. She’s my _friend_.”

“Who you kiss.”

“Not once and I don’t see it happening anytime in the foreseeable future. Do keep in mind my understanding of temporal mechanics is vastly different from yours.” There was a very long and contemplative pause, in which the Doctor slumped in his seat and stared sullenly out the viewscreen as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“So she’s not _your_ girl but you _wish _she were,” Reynar finally summarized. The Doctor let out a very loud and aggrieved groan. 

The shuttle shuddered violently as it opened its landing gear and Rose grimaced at the lashings of rain tormenting the open air landing pad they’d arrived at. Mags and Jetriin extracted themselves from their seatbelts and moved toward the exit with curses and sighs, running through the rain into the building within safe distance. Reynar moved past from the cockpit and made the same maneuver; after a few moments of arguing with the jammed safety harness Rose slumped in her seat with a defeated huff and glared at the floor.

A pair of scuffed Zeds moved into her field of vision and she couldn’t help the soft smile that turned up the corner of her mouth when they stopped and turned to point towards her.

“You can get out of electrified iron bars but get defeated by a Kevlar safety harness with simple alloy restraints?” When she looked up the Doctor was staring at her incredulously with a raised eyebrow and she bit her lip, nodding. He frowned in response and moved to inspect the problem. “What...?”

“I don’t want to inflict property damage on a company shuttle,” she explained with a huff as she wriggled about in the restraints once again. He absently placed a hand on her shoulder - a gesture for calm that both of them used on each other when their hands were otherwise occupied that they’d subconsciously started years ago - and began fiddling with the central clasp. “Figured that it would be best to play our cards close to the vest. If they think that all of us are human they’ll underestimate us more.”

“Mm... true.” He paused for a few moments and glanced at her before resuming his task. “But who do you want to underestimate us, exactly? It hasn’t escaped my notice that neither you nor Mags have made it obvious that you have highly attuned senses or strength. And aside from the little stint with the cyanide last evening-“

“I spit it out,” Rose reminded him.

“Well, of course you did. It was poison.”

“Cyanide tastes really great in a fruit smoothie if you can’t find almond extract, actually,” she countered with a shrug. The clasp the Doctor had been working on abruptly snapped in a rare display of highly-superior-to-humans Gallifreyan strength as he gaped at her in surprise. “Thanks for that. Now they know at least one of the pair of us is a different species from them.”

“I worry about you sometimes,” he sighed. He sounded emotionally exhausted. He’d reached the point where he couldn’t absorb any more of what she told him without feeling numb to it. She’d hit that point several years ago listening to some of the antics he’d gotten up to. She just took whatever he said in stride now at face value and assumed that there was just no point in second-guessing everything. He’d probably stop asking as many follow-up questions to the off-handed comments she made in the future going forward. 

“Only sometimes?” Rose asked, raising an eyebrow. He heaved a sigh that sounded out a warbling groan of mixed annoyance and genuine concern and shrugged. “Ah. I see. The ol’ ‘too tired to keep at it 24/7.’”

“Again, I worry about you _sometimes_,” the Doctor repeated under his breath with a roll of his eyes as he strode toward the ramp of the ship and pulled his coat more snugly about his person. The rain was heavy and becoming soaked due to slipping in a mad dash for cover was not how he wanted to start this particular foray into enemy territory. “Fancy a race?” 

“Doesn’t make much of a difference whether we get wet or not,” Rose sighed. “Jetriin warned me that Head Office is _really _strict about uniforms. We’ll have to go native.” 

“But- but why- but I don’t-“

“You can be such a child sometimes,” Rose laughed, patting his shoulder as his posture and expression assumed a full-blown pout. “Come on, it‘ll be fun.”

“I’m _not _wearing a business suit,” he muttered mutinously, following her at a quick pace into the rain and shaking the water from his bangs with great irritation when they made it under the overhang of the building. “It’ll feel like I’m trying to be my _brother_.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Rose remarked casually as they moved toward the staff locker rooms. The Doctor muttered something under his breath in Gallifreyan and waved the comment off with a flick of his wrist. 

“We both try to pretend the other doesn’t exist,” he explained. “I’m as much a disappointment to him as the younger sibling as he is to me as the older sibling.” 

“Wouldn’t know about all that, I’ll be honest.” She shrugged. “I’d look at my friends who came from multi-kid homes and wonder... ‘s like, the ones that got on well and were friends with their siblings, I’d think it’d be nice to have one.” Her nose wrinkled and he let out a soft laugh at her expression. “Go over to someone else’s place where they fought like cats and dogs, and go ‘maybe not.’ But, still...” a wistful sigh escaped her and he blinked. 

“It really bothers you, doesn’t it?” He asked. “Not having a brother or sister?”

“It’s... strange, is all,” Rose finally replied after a few moments with a shrug. “Complicated. Don’t really care which way or the other whether I have siblings or not. You sor’ of... end up adopting your friends as surrogate siblings instead, but there’s the benefit of not living with them so you get on better. Course, that means you don’t get the _real _sibling experience, and if you drift apart you don’t feel a blood obligation to try and make amends, and obviously feelings can change...” Her brow furrowed and she shook herself slightly. “Anyway.”

“Do you see _me _as a-“

“No.” 

“Oh. I just, because you said-“

“No.” 

“All right then.” He missed her blush because he was too busy sighing in relief, and she missed his obvious joy at her pronouncement because she was too busy dying of embarrassment at the speed with which she’d corrected his assumption. 

“The rendezvous is down this hall,” she muttered, quickening her step. She threw open the door of the locker room to be greeted by the image of Mags pacing the length of the floor while Reynar and Jetriin huddled together on a bench. All three had already changed into their uniforms, and-

The Doctor actually squeaked in profound dismay. He turned to Jetriin with a pleading, horrified expression on his face that made Rose bite her lip to dispel a laugh. 

“What- what is the name of this colony, exactly?” He asked weakly. 

“Roddenberry,” Jetriin answered promptly, raising an eyebrow. “Why?”

“I take it back,” the Doctor sighed, turning to Rose. “I’ll wear the business suit. Anything but this- this-“ he gestured uselessly at the spare uniforms hanging off of the racks along the far wall. 

“Uniforms styled after the mid sixties props of _Star Trek: The Original Series?_” Rose murmured, giggling when he whimpered. “Oh, come on. Live a little.”

“It’s a crime against _fashion, _Rose,” he whispered. 

“vaj naH bIQopchugh,” Rose replied cheekily in Klingon. Both Reynar and Jetriin snickered at the comment, apparently well-versed in the dialect.

“Oh, very mature,” the Doctor muttered with a sigh. He had no idea what she’d said and internally vowed to study every single fantasy language she was currently holding over his head. He warily approached the male uniforms looking for the right size and height and frowned. “Do you know, I never actually watched this show or its spin-offs? I remember seeing advertisements for it back in my third incarnation and being unimpressed... what do the different colors mean?”

“We’ll leave you for the moment,” Mags said, casting a pointed look at their guides and all but ushering them from the room by force.

“Small mercies,” he sighed once they were gone. A hand came up to nervously ruffle the hair at the back of his head. “So...”

“If you wear red, it means you’re the extra they kill off at the beginning to prove the situation is serious,” Rose said quickly as his fingers reached out to inspect one such uniform. They retracted as if burned. “Or the chief engineer. If I were you I’d pick blue. That color is for medical and for scientific.”

“What color will you be wearing?” The Doctor asked as he pulled a blue uniform off the rack and strode over to one of the changing stations, pulling the curtain closed behind him when he got no answer from Rose. He gagged when he pulled the tight black bell bottom pants up his legs and fastened the belt - he was really more of a suspenders man no matter the body - and shuddered further when the tall black leather boots allowed a small billowing of loose fabric at the part where the pants went under the boot to be free, grimacing at the horrible look.

The blue shirt with the black color and gold-weave trimmings of the neck and wrist hems - respectively - slid over tense shoulders to settle like a warm wool pajama top and his nose wrinkled in disgust. 

“I swear, a _blind person _chose the costumes for this show based purely on visual aesthetic,” he grumbled loudly as he exited the changing booth and discarded his regular apparel in a safe location to retrieve at a later time. “It may have been the sixties, but sti- Ah...” 

“‘But still,’ what?” Rose asked as she stepped out of a nearby booth herself. Unbidden, his eyes rapid-fire took in her appearance like a snapshot and catalogued every piece of it even after he’d abruptly averted his attention elsewhere. She’d pinned her hair up in a loose bun of escaping curls, and she was... she was wearing a red long sleeve mini dress that ended _very _high up on her thighs with a black trim around the neck and golden weave on the wrists. Dark nylon stockings covered what little modesty was left of her legs and gave way to a pair of black Go Go Boots.

“This place is going to be the death of me,” he breathed on an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was warring internally with the deep appreciation of the way the dress revealed her legs - feeling immensely guilty over it at the same time - and the profound horror that washed over him at the 60s era style of the outfit. There was no true clear winner. “Come on. Let’s go find the others.”

“Oh, I dunno, I think it has it’s perks,” Rose whispered, following him out and taking the moment to admire the tight fit of the dark trousers with a wistful sigh before refocusing on the matter at hand. She quickened her pace slightly to draw even and linked their fingers together, smiling innocently when he cast her a distracted but suspicious glance. 

~§§~

Leela looked up from her place in the cage and eyed the security cameras of the office complex with consideration. The Mags was walking down one hall filled with cubicles on the open side with two people, one of which looking like Rose that Leela knew _wasn’t _Rose simply because the arm around her shoulders belonged to an unfamiliar man. They seemed to be waiting for something, and a few minutes later the Doctor and Rose appeared from an unmonitored room. 

She had learned, over the course of her travels, that certain places were illegal to place cameras in. The room was either a bathroom or a changing room, both of which involving various states of undress, but she didn’t bother to surmise which they had come from. What was important to her was the ability to watch her captors mill oh so innocently about among the regular office drones. So long as she could keep an eye on them it made it possible to work on escaping without getting caught in the process, and with a determined huff Leela started feeling around the hinges and corners of her confinement. 

The cage itself was transparent aluminum with metal bars for the framework and air vents so she wouldn’t suffocate and as such the clear material wouldn’t break any time soon enough for her to bust out. 

“What I wouldn’t give for K-9,” she sighed, leaning forward and letting her forehead bang against the transparent metal. “Why, Andred?” _Bang. _“Why did I let you take him for that patrol mission?” _Bang_. “It was obvious I needed him more of the two of us...” 

Leela leaned backward abruptly, her shoulder blades aching as they struck the opposite side of her confinement, and this time let the back of her head connect with a _Bang _instead of the front. She let out a squeak of surprise when the entire panel collapsed on impact and sent her sprawling, staring with wide eyes at the ceiling. 

“Wondered when you’d notice,” a cheerful and - in her opinion - sassy male voice called from the shadows. The vowels were harsher to her ears than when spoken by her husband or the Doctor, and her translator was telling her he was speaking plain English. She was instantly on her feet and glaring at him in a defensive stance. The man chuckled, stepping out of the dark corner, and grinned at her with sparkling blue eyes from under artfully disarrayed dark brown hair. His smile was Patent and he seemed to be having more fun with the situation than anything else. 

“Who are you?” She spat, voice low and threatening. “If you are one of the ones that caught me...”

“Relax, beautiful. I’m with an organization, but not the one you’re thinking.” His smile thinned to cover the teeth, more businesslike and less flirtatious. “And I know which one _you’re _from. Just tell your precious Time Lord CIA that they owe the Time Agency one, yeah?”

“Why would you save me?” Leela asked, easing slowly out of her defensive posture and looking at the stranger in confusion. She’d heard Andred and countless other Time Lords complain about the Time Agency enough to get an idea of the man’s job occupation if nothing else, but this told her very little about _him._

“Because unlike some of the people I work with, I’ve got a conscience. I wasn’t even supposed to be in this sector, but there was this bar and I got chatting with-“ he broke off upon seeing her impatient expression. “You don’t wanna know the details. Look, I decided to enjoy the festival and saw you get kidnapped. Figured I’d be a Good Samaritan. It wasn’t until they took your identification that I figured out that you were here for a reason.” The stranger sighed. “And I also know you won’t allow me to join you for a bit of interagency cooperation.”

“Your kindness is appreciated,” she murmured. “And for what it is worth, if it were up to me I’d like to engage in... inter... agency... cooperation.” She raised an eyebrow. “I think.” 

“Not sure this ‘Andred’ guy would approve,” the man retorted with a wink. Leela blinked, and, upon realizing she’d been had, opened her mouth to chastise him when he fiddled with the Vortex Manipulator on his wrist and vanished from sight. 

“Men,” she muttered in annoyance. It was time to go find her things. 

On her way out of the place she took the liberty of... borrowing... the blue uniform of a woman about her height and build before disappearing into the complex in search of the assassin. 

~§§~

Mags inhaled sharply as she schooled her demeanor and focused on being the perfect office secretary. Her species had never been gender-dominant to begin with and her status as an Alpha made her even less inclined toward obeyed those who were her equals or underlings, but because they appeared stronger than she did this somehow made them more superior. There had been many excuses over the centuries of Earth history for male dominance, none of which she felt was valid, and while Rose and Jetriin were able to grit their teeth and stoically push through it because of their Earth ties she couldn’t. She hadn’t been raised that way and hadn’t ever personally encountered it before. It was completely, entirely alien to her. Needless to say, pretending to work in the office was not going to pan out for her. 

The sounds of a struggle a few corridors over made her ears prick up. Seemed like she wasn’t the only one who couldn’t get behind the separation of the genders either. As she rounded the corner, Mags skidded to a halt and could do little more than gaps in surprise when she saw Leela holding a knife to a poor man’s throat. Aside from being a sexist he was entirely innocent and barely old enough to shave, and he was trembling like a leaf in the warrior’s firm grip.

“Leela!” Mags hissed, catching the other woman’s attention. They were both bedecked in the same color of uniform, one which Leela smoothed gracefully as she stood in a fluid motion and pressed a boot to the poor boy’s neck. 

“Do not touch what is not yours to touch,” Leela warned before releasing him. He scrambled to his feet and ran, smacking painfully into the wall in his haste, and she turned her full attention to Mags. “I did not expect to find you here.” 

“We found the intended victim and came here to confront the assassin, to find you and break you out,” Mags explained. She arched an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “How did you...?”

“I had help from an unexpected source,” Leela explained dismissively, frowning slightly in puzzlement before shaking her head. “Where are the Doctor and his mate?”

“She isn’t his mate,” Mags sighed. “Not for my lack of trying to get them to see reason, mind.” The two women exchanged a knowing, exasperated glance. 

“Then I correct my question. Where are the Doctor and The Woman Who Would Perfectly Complete Him If Neither Were So Stubborn?”

“Rose is snooping through the files and the Doctor is complaining about the dress code and was trying to find you,” Mags answered with a stifled snicker and a smirk. “Reynar- that’s the victim, Jetriin’s, boss as well as her lover- is watching her in protective bodyguard detail. I was supposed to check the perimeter on a regular path but I don’t pick up any new scents since the last time I was in this area.” 

“The assassin will not strike when the target is well-guarded,” Leela pointed out. “While the Doctor would dislike even the suggestion of this, I feel we would do best to set this Jetriin up as bait and lure the hunter into a trap. If she agrees, of course. Such things cannot be done with unwilling participants.” 

“You’re right, the Doctor _would _hate that. And I get the feeling so would Reynar. But Jetriin is strong, and Rose is the only authority figure I really concern myself with being a Letoan, and she’d see it as a necessary evil even if she weren’t happy about it.” 

“Girls night out?” Leela suggested, smiling. Mags frowned in confusion. 

“What does that mean?” Leela shrugged. 

“No idea. But I’ve heard it in my travels with the Doctor and it generally means that men are not allowed to participate. Seeing as the two who would oppose us are men, I felt the phrase was accurate.” There was a moment of silence before Mags shrugged as well. 

Rose was far less impressed with their plan than they thought she would be, reminding Leela almost uncomfortably of the Doctor in the way she chastised them for such an idea and suddenly despite her physical appearance leaving no doubt in anyone’s mind that she was the eldest member of the group by a good few centuries. However, unlike the Doctor, she was entirely willing to lodge her complaint and leave the decision up to Jetriin - who would of course be the one putting her life in outright danger. It was only fair, Rose reasoned. Such a decision was up to the individual and the individual alone. 

Jetriin, being the determined individual that she was, was more than willing to jump on the death-taunting bandwagon. At least until Rose offered to take her place, at which point she became upset at the mere mention of someone getting killed over her. Rose was unable to explain that there were very few things capable of killing her without outing her unique species and as such had to let the matter drop. 

The plan was straightforward, concocted in the large handicap stall of the woman’s restroom where Reynar couldn’t follow them and hear. Leela further made the inconvenient location uncomfortable by shamelessly sitting on the toilet as if it were a normal chair while they talked, prompting instinctual aversion of the eyes from the location before it occurred to all present that there wasn’t actually anything wrong with looking at someone sitting on the closed lid of a toilet when they had no intention whatsoever of using it for its intended purposes. 

Jetriin was going to slip away to the upper offices; large, cavernous spaces and plenty of cover for the assassin with the benefit of few people actually going up there because they belonged to the corporate CEOs. Mags and Leela would be waiting in the vents both armed with blowpipes for Leela’s Janus thorns and Rose would patrol the only access point to the upper levels under the guise of making paperwork rounds. The other added benefit was that they wore the same uniform color and, being doppelgängers of one another, she provided a second target that the killer had to distinguish from. 

Leela presented both Wolves with scent samples shortly after Jetriin left. She’d made her attackers bleed and it was easy for them to lock the smells in as enemy targets. 

~§§~

Guilt was a strange thing. While Rose generally subscribed to the ‘do first ask forgiveness later’ strategy the idea of keeping the Doctor entirely out of the loop didn’t sit well with her. They had been working together as partners for the better part of ten years now and to simply disregard that because she knew he wouldn’t agree with her was... wrong. While the Doctor understood the benefits of the Doctor first ask forgiveness later’ method - in fact he was practically the _inventor_ of that particular method - it would still hurt him. She’d want him to come to her, so... 

She found him arguing with the office equipment, grumbling under his breath as he shoved his hands into the machine and pulled out a wad of ink-smeared unusable paper. 

“That copier looks very retro,” she murmured. He straightened with a grimace a tossed the paper jam into the nearby recycle bin. 

“Yes, well. This era is especially nostalgia-heavy in Terran colonial history,” he sighed. A glare was levied at the copier. “Unfortunately. Misogyny, bad office equipment, selfies...”

“Selfies?” 

“You don’t want to know.” Rose giggled when he ran a hand through his hair and got ink all throughout it, getting it on his face, his uniform...”

“You’re a walking disaster, you know that?” She asked. The Doctor opened his mouth to reply before closing it, shoulders slumping in defeat as he nodded pitifully. 

“This is why I never wanted to work in an office. I’d be no good at it and I’d be bored out of my mind.” 

“Well, your day’s about to get even worse,” Rose sighed as she opened a cabinet next to the copier and opened a pack of disposable cleaning cloths. She center cupped his face as she cleaned the ink off, allowing him to do his hands and uniform on his own but getting the spots he couldn’t see. “Leela escaped and she, Mags, Jetriin and I sor’ of... had a conference in the loo. Jetriin decided she liked Leela’s idea of bait.”

“B- oh, no...” 

“Yeah, we figured neither you nor Reynar would approve of that,” she muttered dryly. “Kinda why we didn’t ask. They didn’t want to tell either of you until after it was over, either.”

“So why are you?” The Doctor asked, frowning. Rose shrugged, moving the cloth into his hair and taking great care not to smear the ink further in. 

“Because you’re my partner, and we do this together or not at all,” she said simply. “I respect you too much for that.”

“Respect huh? I thought I was a walking disaster,” he retorted with no undue exasperation. Rose’s tongue peaked out between her teeth as she unsuccessfully hid a smile. She spent a few moments of silence finishing cleaning his hair before lightly ruffling it and taking a soft step back so that they weren’t as intimately close. 

“Well, you’re _my _walking disaster,” she said sweetly, leaning up lightly on her toes and pecking him on the cheek near the corner of his mouth, which fell open slightly as he stiffened and stared at her in disbelief. 

Rose dropped back onto her heels and smiled brightly before turning and walking the other direction. 

“You coming or not, Doctor?”

“I...” He raised a hand to press it against his cheek as he watched her saunter away and whimpered slightly in a sort of strangled desperation before sighing heavily and plodding after. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of you were wondering, I myself am an only child. My parents wanted more but couldn’t have any others. In case there’s anyone with siblings reading this wondering what a version of the only child perspective is, the perspective Rose has in this is at least one type of way of looking at things but obviously not uniform.
> 
> “vaj naH bIQopchugh” - Klingon - “So is wearing a vegetable.” (Had my chance and took it)
> 
> P.S. - I was saving the tiny peck on the cheek kiss for chapter four, but I moved it up for you guys. 
> 
> A/N FOR 07/29/2020: CONTINUITY ERROR  
I just recently noticed in a skimming read through that, in “Caves of Androzani II,” the Doctor states that he is a closet Star Trek fan and has seen all of the content for it. I apologize for this and rectify the issue by simply changing “Star Trek” in Caves to “Star Wars.” Weak change, I know and concede, but the line was throwaway and I didn’t want to do major formatting for something so trivial. For those that read it prior to the change, I apologize again.


	28. Hunt of the Champions IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: MAJOR SPOILERS IN THIS CHAPTER FOR ANYONE WHO HASN’T YET LISTENED TO THE FIRST TWO SEASONS OF BIG FINISH’S “GALLIFREY.” 
> 
> However, the conversation isn’t hugely important between Mags and Leela at the very start and can be filled in by context later on. If you want to listen to “Gallifrey” and don’t want spoilers simply look for the first PoV break which looks like this: ~§§~
> 
> Happy reading!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PART 4 OF 4.
> 
> https://ask-the-almighty-google.tumblr.com/post/620945313399783424/cleowho-are-you-responsible-for-this-box
> 
> Okay, this is just so... precious? Like? How. It is illegal to be that adorable...
> 
> As for the altered meme right at the beginning... I couldn’t resist. The opportunity was there. Hope you like what the ending of this chapter implies.
> 
> I did some digging, and recently got into the Big Finish “Gallifrey” series 1-3 with big plans to happily continue giving the rest of them a listen. Anyway. From what I can surmise it begins soon after the story “Zagreus” as Leela and Romana had not formally met before then and there was mention of the Doctor not being available for them to ask his opinion on a matter - referencing his tenure in the Divergent Universe; this is not important for those who have no idea what I’m talking about. In essence, what I am saying is that “Gallifrey” begins during the Eighth Doctor’s tenure and continues into the Time War. 
> 
> For my timeline, I’m going to have “Gallifrey” start well before its canonical date as I want “Zagreus” later on but still want to get the ball rolling on the Time Lord front. 

_*sneeze*_

“Bless you.” Mags winced as the words slipped out, as the man in the office space below them looked up incredulously at the ceiling vent and sniffled into a tissue. Leela was smirking but made no sound in response to her slip.

“Gene?”

_Let’s get out of here,_ Leela mouthed. Mags nodded, moving as silently as possible further forward. They stalked forward through the vents as only two well-practiced hunters could, lithe movements nearly noiseless and frighteningly precise. After a time they managed to find their vantage point and settled in to wait. 

“Tell me something Leela,” Mags whispered so quietly the other woman barely caught the words. “Why are you really here?” 

“I...” Leela trailed off before taking a breath for courage and continuing. “Recently, I lost my husband. At least, that is what I thought had happened. He had... regenerated, in an altercation with another man. The man, Torvald, regenerated as well but still died of his wounds. Andred, he... he took Torvald’s place hoping to reveal a conspiracy. He lied to me for months, Mags. And when the truth was revealed to me I saw that I had lost my husband while he yet still lived.” 

“I assume you’ve told the Doctor about this?”

“No. Just the opposite, in fact. When he asked after Andred I lied. ...Or told only part of the truth, at any rate. As far as he’s concerned all is well.” A soft, sly smirk graced her lips. “I haven’t even told him that his friend, Romana, has become Lady President.” A contemplative quirk of an eyebrow denoted confusion. “At least, from _his _perspective, she has not yet returned from E-Space... such are the complexities of time travel.”

“I don’t understand even a portion of what he and Rose talk about,” Mags admitted. Leela shrugged. 

“Neither do I and I live among them.”

“‘Them?’”

“Time Lords. I live on Gallifrey, but now...”

“You mentioned you lost your husband, even though he’s still alive,” Mags prompted. Leela flashed her a grateful look, difficult to see in the dim light of the vent. 

“Yes. I was later told that Andred was suffering from... ‘post-regenerative trauma.’ Simply, his new personality was stifled by Andred pretending to be Torvald. He was never given a chance to settle into his new form, and as a result became the man - to a certain extent - that he had killed.” The grateful smile soured with the pain of past memory. “He was imprisoned. Romana hoped that it would... rehabilitate him. That his true personality would show itself, that he would return to us. 

“And after- many things, that are very confusing unless you were there to experience it and quite honestly I doubt even the Time Lords involved could tell it straight - he joined the Chancellory Guards once again, appointed to his former position as Castellan.” She laughed a soft, bitter chuckle. “He told me he was trying to be the man he had once been for me. But I... I’m not sure I...”

“Yet you’re here, indicating that you have doubts,” Mags summarized. Leela nodded. 

“I sent K-9 to go with him when he asked,” she sighed. “It’s about the only concession I’m willing to make at the moment. He hurt me deeply, Mags.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?” 

“You are a stranger,” Leela said simply. “I could not look the Doctor in the eye knowing that they held judgement. You take my story as told, knowing little of the things that are mentioned within it. I did not come looking for judgement today. I came looking for respite from all that troubles me, if only for a short time.”

“Hopefully we can give that peace to more than Jetriin and Reynar then,” Mags murmured. 

~§§~

“Her hair was gold as corn, her eyes they were the sun, she danced in the evening dew and set my fears to run...”

“Could you please stop that racket?” The Doctor hissed as the pair traversed the lower level hallways of the office complex. Reynar cast him a thoroughly-unimpressed look and continued softly singing under his breath. 

“I’m trying to give you seduction techniques and you won’t even give them a chance,” the man grumbled when he’d finished the fifth verse. 

“Why would I _ever _need seduction techniques?” 

“You’re not getting anywhere with Rose.”

_“There’s nowhere to go!_” 

“Oh, yea of little hope...” Reynar observed the Doctor speculatively for a few moments before shrugging. “I had no idea anyone could ever be so terrible at securing a date. You may just be my toughest case yet.”

“I want to be _left alone,” _the Doctor ground out, teeth clenching as he turned away and looked out the window while taking deep, calming breaths. He’d never wanted to strangle someone more in all his lives. “Is that so much to ask? Your fiancée- she is your fiancée, yes, or did I get that wrong- is currently using herself as bait and you’re busy trying to give me useless _courting advice _instead of watching for her assassin.” 

Reynar was silent for a good long time before he replied.

“I’m terrified, Doctor,” he said quietly. “This is how I cope. I don’t become serious or fall apart. I cope by pretending to be ruddy Hitch. I’m sorry if that offends you.”

“...No, _I’m_ sorry. I’ve gone through a few coping methods myself, I should have known better. Would you... would you like to continue giving advice?” 

“...Apology... Accepted. Now, I have a question. If the true target is me, and I’m in full view, why doesn’t the assassin just switch targets? She no longer needs my itinerary. I’m here.”

“Because she most likely wants to kill you when it will make the best impact,” the Doctor explained. “In front of a crowd, before a crucial vote, after a disastrous marketing quarter... who knows. It depends on what your death is supposed to achieve to the assassin’s employers.”

“You’re a cheery one,” Reynar muttered. The Doctor shrugged.

“You’re the one who asked.” 

~§§~

Rose whirled around and launched herself at the person following her as she stalked the perimeter of the corporate building, uniform and hair slicked back and soaking from the downpour. 

The man in question was a contrast of reality.

He wore a WWII era navy blue trench coat with a belt _and _suspenders, a Vortex Manipulator strapped to his wrist, and a flirty grin plastered to his face revealing pearly white teeth. A sparkling dark blue eye winked at her.

“Not that I don’t enjoy a little rough-housing gorgeous, but I’m kinda here to help you out,” he purred. Rose growled at him, the noise low in her chest as she bared her canines at him. His hands slowly raised to show submission. “You’re Rose Tyler. You travel in a Police Box with the Doctor, a Time Lord. You’re a Letoan.”

“Yeah, what’s it to a Time Agent?” Rose snapped. The man winked. 

“_Ex_-Time Agent, thanks very much. My name’s Jack Harkness. I’ll be a future friend of yours one day. In fact, I was brought here _by the two of you _to fulfill a causal loop. Been avoiding my younger, still a Time Agent self - who freed your friend Leela by the way - all afternoon.”

“You... _what!?”_

“Pack,” Jack said softly. Rose abruptly released him and stepped backwards, putting a good amount of distance between them. He released a breath and nodded. “The two of you decided to put your trust in me when I wasn’t willing to even trust myself, and there’s no way I can repay that. But I’ll try my best.”

“You’re human, aren’t you?”

“Enhanced human, but yeah.” He flashed a flirty smile. “Why, like what you see?”

“51st century, you’re all the same,” Rose sighed, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms as she leaned most of her weight on her right leg. 

“Don’t worry, beautiful.” He winked. “I know you’ve only got eyes for your Time Lord.” She blinked at the possessive term of ‘your’ but said nothing in regards to it. 

“Why are you here?”

“I’m supposed to help you with the assassin. No idea why, the pair of you just dumped me here and here I am.” 

“Sounds... like a huge liability.”

“I guess.”

“...Right.” 

“Right...” 

There was a split moment of silence before they made eye contact and burst out laughing.

“It’s scarily easy to interact with you,” Rose chuckled. “And extremely mental.”

“Well, I mean... I think that’s just me,” Jack replied, waggling his eyebrows in a perfect imitation of the Doctor. Which only made Rose want to laugh all that much harder. “And we’re friends. Or, y’know. We will be. What do you say? Will you let me help you out a bit?” 

“Mm... better than bein’ on my own at any rate,” she decided. “Yeah, sure. Why not. I could do with a laugh.” 

“We’ve already had that.”

“Shut up,” Rose grumbled good-naturedly, punching him in the arm. He feigned mock pain and clutched at the spot dramatically. They both settled relatively quickly into a serious and attentive manner as they matched step for step and patrolled the exterior of the building. 

It was on their seventh circuit that they noticed a dark figure rappelling down the side of the office and they simply watched, dumbfounded, for a good few moments before springing into action. 

Before Rose could suggest a course of action Jack had grabbed her arm, programmed in the coordinates into his Vortex Manipulator, and zapped them into the middle of complete and absolute chaos. 

The moment the assassin had crashed through the window and her little ‘helpers’ had materialized in - Mags surmised that their boss had a localized teleport beacon on her person - Mags and Leela had burst out of the vents. 

For the first time in a very long time Mags felt the Wolf stir within her, eager for a fight, and was able to quell the urge to shift. She drew a deep steadying breath and launched herself at one of the mercenaries; they went rolling across the floor in a tangle of flying limbs. Leela let out a warrior’s cry somewhere in the background and the sharp metallic tang of blood laid heavy in the air. Shouts and cries dimmed into the background as Mags bit down hard on the man she was battling, teeth embedding into his arm. He shrieked and let go of her hair. 

A deep growl rumbled like gathering thunder as a streak of golden fur raced directly toward the assassin and Mags let herself go, trusting in Rose’s ability to hold her in check. 

By the time the alarm for the building sounded it was all over. The Doctor and Reynar had arrived to see two large wolves and Jetriin wrestling with one person each and Leela handling three at once. 

“Mags,” The Doctor called. He had learned long ago that keeping his voice low, even, and firm was far more effective than a sharp shout of reprimand. Mags abruptly dropped the mercenary she’d been shredding the clothes of and slunk over to a corner to watch the exchange with wide, dilated eyes as her frame heaved with panting breaths. Leela was another matter entirely. 

She’d been attacked by the people she was currently attempting to murder and she was protecting someone they wanted to harm. A simple verbal command would do nothing. The Doctor instead wove his way into the fight and grabbed her round the waist, grunting as he struggled to haul her off of the whimpering forms on crying on the floor. She growled at him and he merely rolled his eyes, unimpressed. Even incensed she wouldn’t attack him. 

...At least, not after she’d got to know him... 

“Rose?” He called softly. Reynar, who had been cradling a bleeding Jetriin in his arms, started in surprise as the Doctor approached the large golden Wolf. Rose had cornered the assassin with bared fangs and barely even moved a muscle when the desperate woman kicked at her side. 

“Hey!” Most everyone swung around to stare at the unfamiliar man stalking over and roughly drawing the assassin’s arms behind her back. “You don’t kick her!”

“Who the _Hell-?_” Jetriin started. 

“Jack Harkness, at your service,” the stranger muttered. He nodded at Rose. “Ask her.” 

Rose herself was calmly standing next to the man and merely proceeded to wag her tail in response. She ignored the startled yelps from Reynar and Jetriin as she shifted back into her skin, fixing her hair with a soft sigh as she walked over to Mags. A simple touch to her shoulder had her lowering her hackles and coming back to her senses. 

“Ex-Time Agent, Causal Loop with some future selves,” she murmured simply. “He’s fine.” The Doctor’s nose wrinkled in distaste and she bit back a smile. “Oh, leave ‘im alone.” 

“Y- You- You’re a Werewolf!” Reynar stuttered, pointing. “Both of you!” 

“And that’s a speciest slur,” Jack ground out angrily. 

“He didn’t mean anything by it, Jack. Can all but guarantee _you_ called me that when we first met.” 

“...Well.” 

“I’m sorry, we have other things to worry about,” the Doctor interrupted, walking over to the assassin. “Like discovering the identity of your employer so this never happens again.”

“I don’t know,” the woman spat. 

“She’s lying,” Rose growled. The assassin shrank back against Jack when the Wolf’s gaze settled on her. 

“Oh and how would you know?” A light flash a gold shimmered in Rose’s eyes and the Doctor winced, swallowing, as she stalked forward. 

“_Empath_.” The word was said with enunciation and the color drained from their enemy’s face. “So why don’t we try this again.”

“And just remember, neither me nor Xenia over there play very nice,” Jack hissed in her ear. Leela made a point of inspecting her knife. “So I’d cooperate if I were you.”

“The company,” the assassin bit out through clenched teeth. Deep purple eyes glinted murderously toward the room in general. “Progressivism cuts into their profits.” 

“Bet they hire you on all their little jobs, don’t they?” Rose surmised in a sweet voice that in no way reflected the expression on her face. “Probably keep the record on ya, in case you need to blackmail them.” She stepped closer and began thoroughly rifling through the woman’s pockets, tutting without so much as a wince as the woman kicked her in the shins. Jack tightened his grip and wolf whistled. 

“Lady, you can kick him for me for that. _Behave_, Jack.” 

“Pleasure,” the assassin hissed. Jack grunted but said nothing when she drove her sharp heel down on his toes. “Being awfully _precise _with this pat-down.”

“Hazards of habit from working with MI-6,” Rose murmured absently, smiling triumphantly as she drew a small notebook out of an interior pocket and tossing it to the Doctor. He flit through the pages with an ever-increasing frown. 

“My my, many a skeleton in here,” he hummed, slipping his specs on and tilting his head slightly. What on Earth did the poor mailman do to incur your execution?”

“Don’t ask, don’t tell,” the assassin retorted in a simpering, mocking tone. 

Jack let out a yelp as she twisted suddenly in his grasp and drove her knee into his groin. She ran for the broken window as he crumpled to the ground, leaping for the rappel line and screaming as Leela knocked her away from its reach. Mags, Rose, and the Doctor rushed for the window with concern for their friend and let out a collective sigh of relief when they saw her swimming for the shore of the river far below. 

“Lucky that,” Rose commented. The Doctor groaned and scrubbed his face with one hand whilst pocketing his specs with the other. “The assassin wasn’t so fortunate.” 

“Leela has a permanent death wish at any given time,” he explained tiredly. “For some reason the universe hasn’t granted it yet.”

“Well, let’s be grateful it hasn’t,” Mags breathed.

“...Mm...”

~§§~

“That could have gone a lot better,” Rose muttered as she watched the emergency medical team tend to Jetriin and Leela’s wounds. Jack leaned on the stone fencing by her side and shrugged. 

“Could have gone a lot worse,” he pointed out. “It’s all about perspective.” 

“Like the benefit of someone else’s hindsight?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. Jack smiled. 

“Maybe.” He shifted closer so that their shoulders were touching. “Seriously, Rose... I know I can’t say anything, but I _can _tell you that you’re happy. You and the Doctor. And me, I’m happy. We work well together, and it’s... been a while since I felt safe. That I felt I could trust the people I was with not to double-cross me. And I’m grateful.”

“It sounds like a utopia, the way you talk,” Rose said dryly. He snorted a laugh at that.

“Oh, right. Like traveling with the Doctor is danger-free risk. I’m just saying. Team TARDIS? It’s something special.”

“You act like it’s a long way in the future for me,” she murmured softly, turning properly to look at him. A gentle smile graced his features and he sighed. 

“It’s a good few years for you yet,” he admitted. “But worth the wait.” The gentle smile turned into a positively wicked smirk as he gently cupped her chin in his hand. “Oh, and I was under express orders to do this from your future self so please, don’t slap me...”

“What’s next for you then?” The Doctor asked, shoving his hands into his pockets as he and Reynar approached the triage site and wove their way through the office staff.

“Making sure there’s Hell to pay,” Reynar replied absently, staring at the sky. “First things first is to hold the company board accountable for their actions. And I hate to be ‘that person,’ but capitalizing on the assassination attempt will turn both Jetriin and I into almost-martyrs for the common man. It’ll help bring about the reform we want. After that... I plan on marrying the woman of my dreams and starting a family.”

“Such is the life of a human,” the Doctor murmured. There was a touch of wistfulness in his tone as he gazed across the promenade toward where Rose and the Time Agent were conversing. Reynar followed his line of sight and chuckled.

“Just ask her out and put us all out of our misery, Doctor.” The Time Lord’s shoulders slumped. 

“It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?” 

“There are so many ways it could go wrong, Reynar,” he sighed. “We’ve been friends for so long, and right now it works, and I don’t want to lose that close connection because I wanted more than she was willing to give.”

“And what makes you think that she doesn’t feel the same way?” 

“...Well...” the Doctor swallowed thickly as his hearts sank into his toes and then shattered into a thousand pieces. “...That, for instance...” Reynar blinked and followed his gaze, whistling.

“Wow. That is... that is... sensual.” He sniffed and gently pet the Doctor’s shoulder. “Condolences.” 

“Is it the hair?” The Doctor asked weakly. “He has nice hair.”

“Well, so do you.”

“...Yes, but Rose keeps hinting that she wants to cut it...” 

“It’s not the hair, Doctor.”

“_You _say.” Reynar sighed, reaching up to adjust the neckline of his uniform. 

“Look. It was probably his idea, not hers. She isn’t exactly a helpful participant. Never seen a stiffer receiver of a kiss in my life.” 

“...Um...”

“You scare me.” Leela looked up at Mags’ comment and smiled, not even flinching as a medic stitched her wounds. 

“How so?” Mags raised an eyebrow as she slowly sat in between Leela and Jetriin, who leaned around her slightly to see the object of their shared interest.

“You took on three hired mercenaries and only suffered superficial injury for starters, and on top of that you somehow managed to survive a fall from the fifth floor of the building.”

“The first was skill, and the second was luck,” Leela explained with a shrug. The medic snapped a short reprimand at her for the action and she shrugged again in response. “I caught a metal beam on the way down and used it to slow my momentum enough to safely land in the river.” 

“You’re brave, Leela,” Mags murmured. “Brave enough to sort things with Andred.” Leela stiffened in response and she forged ahead. “I may not have been with the Doctor and Rose enough to know their pasts, who they are at their core, but I do know that the Doctor is most like himself when he is with her. He is guarded when she is not there.”

“You’re saying that I should give Andred a chance, that my being with him may help him find his way back to himself from where he has become lost.”

“I want you to think about it,” Mags said gently. “You’re strong, Leela. If I didn’t know Rose, I’d say you were the strongest person I knew.”

“You’re saying I’m stronger than the Doctor?” Leela asked, a soft gleam of amusement entering her dark, sad eyes. Mags snorted in response and that gleam grew. “I will reflect on your words, Mags. Perhaps it is time for me to return home. Romana needs me by her side right now, and that will allow me to be near Andred...”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“May I... speak with you? Romana refers to the TARDIS having something called a ‘Teleepone’ that K-9 can show me how to use.” 

“I’d love it. And I think Rose would, too.” 

“Then I shall.” They shared a smile as the Doctor and Reynar walked over. “Hello, Doctor.”

“Hello, Leela. Feeling all right?”

“Bumps and bruises.” Her eyes flicked over toward Reynar comforting Jetriin and she smiled. “I’d forgotten how chaotic things with you usually become.” He rolled his eyes and shoved his hands into his pockets, studiously avoiding looking over Leela’s shoulder. 

“Is it time to go then, Doctor?” Mags asked. He nodded. 

“Oh, overdue I think,” he muttered sourly. Both women frowned at him in confusion and turned as one to see what he was looking at - which just so happened to be Jack giving Rose an overly-friendly hug goodbye before he strode down the street and left her staring after him. 

“I like him,” Leela decided in that precise way that she had. 

“Yeah, _you_ would,” came the huffed, exasperated reply. The Doctor sighed, shaking out his shoulders before refocusing his attention and smiling at his old friend. “Need a lift back to Gallifrey?”

“I have a Time Ring, but thank you. What about you? I thought the TARDIS was left at the festival.”

“It was, so we’ll have to take the shuttle back first.” 

“It leaves in ten minutes,” Rose reminded him as she walked over. She looked uncharacteristically flustered and was busily teasing several tangles out of her hair. 

“Said goodbye to the pretty boy?” The Doctor snipped. Rose stopped what she was doing mid-movement to raise an incredulous eyebrow. She made a great show of looking him up and down, biting her lip in an obvious attempt to keep from laughing. He grumbled something in Gallifreyan under his breath that had Leela huffing a short laugh and abruptly started walking toward the shuttle depot.

“What’s _his _problem?” Rose whispered. Mags shrugged. 

“I’m not sure he took to Jack all that well,” she whispered back. A blink was received in response. 

“Oh.” 

~§§~

_“Gotta tell ya Doc, I felt like I was being _counter_-productive back there rather than _pro_ductive,” Jack admitted as he walked back toward the spot in the nearby café where the future versions of the Doctor and Rose were waiting for him at a table. “I glanced over and your past self looked like someone had just hit your dog with their car and drove off.” _

_“You didn’t seem all that upset by it,” the Doctor groused with a pout, glaring at the stray lipstick in the corner of Jack’s mouth from the snot he’d just delivered. Rose rolled her eyes and soothed his ruffled feathers as she applied a light, affectionate kiss to the side of his mouth._

_“He was just getting a smooch in while the opportunity was still available,” She laughed, sending Jack a wink. Her Time Lord growled softly and wrapped his arm more tightly around her waist, dropping his chin against her head as she willingly nuzzled into the soft jumper material covering his chest. He sent a sky blue glare at the former Time Agent- a glare that ended abruptly as his eyes closed and a purr rumbled deep in his chest as Rose tilted her head up and peppered light kisses to the underside of his jaw, fingers trailing along the join of his right shoulder and neck. _

_“You and your Captain Envy,” she sighed fondly, tussling his bangs; the action elicited a chuff and the angling of his head away from her reach. “Works every time.”_

_“I don’t get it,” Jack stated plainly, sitting at the table with a soft smile as he observed his traveling companions. _

_“You have an innate talent for bringing out the Doctor’s jealous streak,” Rose explained. “Many have tried and failed, but all you have to do is breathe wrong...”_

_“It’s my natural charm,” Harkness replied in a sing-song voice as he framed his face with his hands and put on his most winning smile. _

_“Just drink your tea,” the Doctor sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He took a sip of his own and arched an eyebrow. “Was it strange, seeing your former self and not remembering what you did while you were here?”_

_“Actually... It made me feel good,” Jack replied after a few moments. All blustering flirtation was gone to be replaced by one of his rarer, more somber and pensive moods. “It just... y’know? I had _morals_. I wasn’t just some Agency toady who sold his soul to the cause and lost his memories when I was no longer useful to them. For all I know I got head trauma saving a bunch of kids from a wild beast or something. Not- not saying that’s what happened, ‘cause obviously I still don’t know, but...”_

_“Hope,” Rose summarized as the Doctor offered a soft and sympathetic smile when their friend trailed off, looking lost. _

_“We’ll figure out what happened Jack,” he added, sliding his palm across the table to tap the back of their friend’s hand before withdrawing and twining his fingers with Rose’s. Jack returned his small smile._

_“I appreciate the help.” The smile faded to be replaced by confusion. “But seriously, can one of you tell me how kissing Rose helped speed things along? Because from what I saw it looked like you were about to make a move and I messed it up.”_

_“...You set... _things_, in motion,” the Doctor explained cryptically, casting Rose an exasperated glance when she snickered. “And not another sound out of you, miss ‘pack of suitors nipping at your heels.’”_

_“You were the tip of the iceberg on the limit of the Doctor willing to watch people flirt with me without saying anything about it,” Rose clarified, elbowing the object of the conversation in the stomach. “He sorta snapped the next time it happened.”_

_“I did not,” he muttered._

_“There were _strong words_,” she added conspiratorially. Jack burst out laughing and the Doctor sighed, further slumping in his seat. The things he put up with for this woman..._

_“Do you have any idea what you’re putting my past self through right now?” He complained weakly. Rose tapped her bottom lip with her index finger and smirked, shrugging._

~§§~

“What did she even see in him, anyway!?” The Doctor groaned, flopping on his seldom-used bed and burying his face into the pillow so that it would muffle his frustrated scream. “Captain Perfect Hair!”

He raised his head from the pillow to glare at the ceiling as the TARDIS laughed at him.

“It’s not funny!” 

The TARDIS continued laughing at him and he dropped his face back into the pillow with a defeated sigh, a small part of him hoping it would be enough to let him suffocate and avoid his problems altogether. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UP NEXT: THE MOONS OF VULPANA.
> 
> Can I just say that this is one of the favorite endings I have ever written? So, to outright negate any questions you might have, No. Jack will no appear again in this book. I plan on him being in the entirety of the second book, showing up in story #2 and staying until story #20 (the end story). However, he created an excellent eye-opener for the Doctor, and I loved the idea of Jack being the only one to ever properly give the poor Time Lord ‘Captain Envy.’ It works perfectly, especially if the Doctor is miffed with Rose’s potential suitors on a general basis and they show up all the time.
> 
> Things are obviously, as I hinted, coming to a head in the next story. However, it is a Big Finish Audio and those are exhausting to write up so I will be taking a short break before delving in and then the episodes themselves will take longer than usual to write up. So I also gave you guys some happy ‘Rose and the Doctor confirmed couple in the future’ fluff with that ending to tide you over. And about time, too; all that mistaken ‘I’m in the Friendzone’ opinion on both sides malarkey was driving me spare. 
> 
> P.S. - I don’t like Romcoms aside from “Just Like Heaven” but “Hitch” starring Will Smith was at least passable. I was able to suffer through it without cringing at least. 


	29. The Moons of Vulpana I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m not just falling in love with you, I’m falling into you. You’re an ocean, and I’m falling in drowning in the depths of who you are.”
> 
> -Unknown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PART 1 OF 4.
> 
> THIS IS A BIG FINISH AUDIO ADVENTURE. IT ORIGINALLY STARRED SYLVESTER MCCOY AS THE SEVENTH DOCTOR AND JESSICA MARTIN AS MAGS. IT IS THE SECOND IN A TRILOGY OF MAGS-CENTERED STORIES, AFTER “MONSTERS OF GOKROTH.” 
> 
> Love, love, love this adventure. It is probably my favorite Seventh Doctor story yet. So well-crafted, such amazing delivery... If you’ve listened to it before, small things will change in the first and second part that will compound into major changes to plot in the third and fourth parts. However, unlike “Monsters of Gokroth,” the plot deviation will not be as severe. 
> 
> I highly encourage anyone who hasn’t listened to it to give it a hearing. It is only available for $12.00 on the Big Finish website unfortunately, but at least you have the benefit of hearing that it comes highly recommended and getting an altered version to appraise. Honestly, I encourage buying the entire trilogy as they are all stupendous, and the third story, “An Alien Werewolf in London,” has Ace in it. Unfortunately this would total to $36.00, but... I mean, if you have the money and were wondering which BF product to buy next...
> 
> Anyway, not here to advertise and hawk product for a working company. I just love the work. I’ll let you enjoy the show now.
> 
> Also, this picture link is to remind people what I mean when I say “colored quills” in relation to the Vulpanan species... 
> 
> https://doctorwhoworlduk.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/06/mags-b.jpg

Lazy Sundays had once been both a rarity and a despised occurrence for the Doctor. He had more than enough time to rest and do any repairs that he found were necessary when his human companions slept, and while Mags as a Vulpanan needed a full eight hours herself Rose would be up and about within four hours into the self-imposed night cycle aboard the ship. As he’d found himself unable more and more to be away from Rose for any given amount of time and had thus taken to tutoring her in the maintenance of the TARDIS... It was getting ridiculous, it really was, but unfortunately it he hadn’t factored in falling in love with her when he’d... well. 

Telepathy really was a curse at times. He’d formed, entirely on instinctual accident, an empathic bond with her. It enabled the easy interpretation and reading of her emotions and, if she had been a member of his species, it would have gone both ways. As her species was naturally strong and unshielded empathically to begin with the nitpicking was moot. And as he’d grown to care for her, it had... strengthened. 

What had started off as touch-necessary had become distance-enabled. It had initially been possible to shield the influx of her emotions, but... the problem was that increased or prolonged contact only strengthened it. And now he was unable to suppress the soft shift of her emotions from registering in his mind. 

Touch telepathy was probably the most refined yet insidious form of telepathy on the market. He was increasingly craving the brush of her mind against his, the feel of their consciousnesses lightly caressing one another. Their mental incompatibility resulted in the physical need to be touching her to compensate by strengthening the empathic bond, and it was slowly driving him spare. 

But back to the matter of Lazy Sundays. 

Due to teaching Rose how to upkeep their home - and by the suggestive glint in her eye whenever he piloted the TARDIS she was hoping for more on that front - the Doctor had caught up on all of his repairs for the first time in a long time. Flight had never been smoother, the ship’s hum never more content. It also meant he had nothing to do with his spare time. 

While he should have been bored, he wasn’t. For the first time that he could remember, he was content to take a moment or several and enjoy the peace and quiet. Rose had confessed early on in their travels in an off-handed comment that she and her mum would spend Sundays at home, just the two of them, either working on puzzles or watching something or just... reading magazines, books. Listening to their favorite music. Board games. Jackie had been a novice cook when Pete had died and she and Rose had learned together, studiously pouring over cooking shows and recipes to create a proper sit-down dinner together on Sunday evenings. As she’d got older, it would be a day to recover from whatever mischief that had occurred on Friday and Saturday evenings. 

The Doctor, feeling a pang of longing on her behalf for the life she had been robbed of, had begun marking a ‘Lazy Sunday’ just for her on a rotating seven day cycle. It was a bit of the normalcy she had lost. They’d grown closer on those days, getting to know one another and imparting tiny parts of their pasts to one another. On bad days, they had taken the time to comfort one another after they’d been hurt. 

It was an unspoken thing, but the companions seemed to feel that ‘Lazy Sundays’ meant ‘them time’ and generally stayed in their rooms. The pair of them, the Doctor and Rose, had the majority of that special set aside time to themselves. 

Which is how the Doctor idly found himself wishing that _every _day were a ‘Lazy Sunday.’ 

They were sitting in the library as he read from their current book, his specs gently and incrementally sliding down his nose as he held the book in one hand - supported on the armrest - and gently fondled the silken fur of Rose’s ears with the other. 

Spending the entire day in her Wolf form was a rare but nominally-necessary occurrence. Every once in a while she needed to spend some prolonged time in her pelt. Today was one of those days. 

Her head was resting on his knee, snuffling softly and angling on occasion to get the full benefit of scratches while the opportunity was there. Her long body was sprawled across the rest of the sofa with a foreleg stretched forward to brace against the armrest near the book, a back leg hanging off the side, and her tail made large and lazy sweeping movements as it wagged in over-brimming contentment. By definition, it was the perfect situation on a perfect ‘afternoon.’ 

Some might have raised an eyebrow at that, wondering why he didn’t prefer her curled against his side as a humanoid under a blanket or something, but the Doctor was simply content to relax in her presence. Her happiness was a soft, hazy and warm golden glow on the edges of his consciousness and it was lulling him into a feeling of oddly sated lethargy. He was perfectly pleased to read his book and accomplish nothing for the day. 

It sounded heavenly, in fact. 

Which is why the growl that emanated from the couch when Mags knocked on the doorframe to the library was decidedly _not_ from the actual Wolf, who huffed in amusement and nuzzled at his fingers with her snout. The foreleg currently loosely caging him in shifted as her massive paw landed squarely on the arm holding up the book and lowered it into his lap. He blinked at the up-close view of her toes and tilted his head slightly, ignoring both Mags in the doorway and Rose’s chirp of confusion as he hefted the foot and leaned down close to inspect it.

Retractable claws like a feline’s, four toes without webbing for enhanced grip, and a fifth toe that looked suspiciously like a thumb due to positioning and joint structure. Well, wasn’t that... handy. 

“You painted your nails yesterday,” he said simply instead, gently coaxing one of her claws out of its sheathe and revealing soft pink paint. “I was curious as to whether that carried over.” 

Rose barked at him softly and squirmed up into a sitting position on the couch, shaking out her fur with a heavy sigh and jumping down onto the floor. For emphasis she shoved a back foot in his face and unsheathed the claws on it, showing paint and a typical lupine foot structure with webbed toes. She then lowered it, padding forward a few steps and then shifting into her skin as the Doctor made a point of bookmarking their reading position and pocketing his specs.

“Is this a bad time?” Mags called. 

“No, come on in,” Rose replied with a stretch and a yawn, perching on the edge of an armchair. Bare toes scrunched at the carpet as she loosened her stiff muscles. 

“What can we do for you?” The Doctor asked, sitting up straight and arching his back slightly after being in a prolonged slouching posture. The pair frowned and exchanged a glance as Mags tentatively tiptoed into the room and sat stiffly at the other end of the couch the Doctor was on, at the very edge and looking ready to flee at any moment.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Rose asked, quickly coming over and sitting beside her. The Doctor sighed slightly and stood, forced to walk around and crouch in front of their companion due to her blocking his view. 

Mags was pale and drawn, eyes dark and haunted. He gently took her hand and felt for a pulse in the wrist, frowning at the cool and clammy texture of the fingers and the rapid, feathery heart rate. He let her hand gently drop to rest on her knee and did a scan on his sonic screwdriver, frown deepening as he read the results.

“Moon sickness,” he murmured. Rose looked at him sharply and he sighed. “Not the type you’re thinking of. I mean _literal_ moon sickness.”

“When I lived on Vulpana, I shifted on a cycle with the full second moon,” Mags explained weakly. “When Cook took me from my home that cycle was disrupted. I was... violent. Unpredictable. Capable of lashing out at any little thing that set me off.” Her eyes settled on Rose’s concerned expression. “And then I met you again. And your presence soothes me. I have control of the Wolf, but at a price.”

“Because you need to change,” Rose summarized softly, taking her hand and rubbing soothing circles on the back of it with her thumb. 

“...Yes.”

“I think it’s time we took you home to Vulpana,” the Doctor said softly. Both women flinched and his shoulders hunched. None of them particularly liked the idea. She was their friend, after all, and her people didn’t readily accept things from the stars. The scent of the unknown was all over her. “I hate saying goodbye, Mags. Ask anyone. But you have a very delicate physiology that is intrinsically tied into its natural environment. You rely on the cycle of the moons to regulate your impulses. And not being under them is making you sick.”

“I know, I just...” Mags swallowed. “What if they don’t... I mean...”

“We’ll stay until they do,” Rose assured her. The Doctor tensed at the prospect of being surrounded by far more hostile Wolves than the two in front of him and she gave him a look. “Pretty sure they’ll listen to a Letoan, yeah?” Mags managed a weak and forced smile at that, nodding. “We just want you safe and healthy, Mags. You’re a special gal. You’re our friend. We care about you.” 

Sensing that the tone of the conversation had shifted firmly into the comfort territory - and not the gender-inclusive kind - the Doctor stood.

“I’ll work on setting the coordinates,” he said quietly. “Rose can help you pack... the sooner we get you home the sooner you’ll start feeling healthy again.”

“Thank you,” Mags whispered hoarsely. He nodded and left the library, slinking toward the console room and inputting the coordinates with heavy hearts. 

“We’ll visit, I promise,” Rose murmured. She was sitting on the end of Mags’ bed as the other woman packed her things, swinging her legs back and forth with nervous energy. “And you have our number, and the mobile I bought you with the universal roaming. Call whenever you like. The TARDIS is the best answering machine ever, sends the calls through when we have time to take them.” 

“Privileges of a sentient time ship,” Mags said softly. It had been an attempt at levity that fell entirely flat. 

“Wish you didn’t have to go,” Rose whispered. Her voice cracked and Mags whirled to see her fighting back tears. It suddenly dawned on her that Rose’s empathic state was not only picking up on Mags’ sadness and misery, but on the Doctor’s as well. She was feeling the emotions of three people who didn’t want Mags to leave. Sighing softly, Mags ran over to the bed and scooped her up into a tight hug. They clung to each other, each seeking comfort the other was unable to give, and eventually ended up just sitting on the end of the bed without saying anything. It was a short matter of time for them to both feel hollow and spent emotionally, after all, and when they hit that point they resumed packing. 

The TARDIS shuddered softly upon landing, and with a great sigh Mags hefted her bag over a shoulder and together they walked toward the console room. The Doctor was waiting for them by the doors and without a word he took Mags’ bag for her. They stepped out into a clearing of a forest, the sun setting bloody in the sky, and Mags gasped as the four moons rose to light the dark.

“Oh...”

“You live on a beautiful world, Mags,” Rose said quietly. 

“I haven’t lived here since I was very young,” Mags murmured. “But I can still remember the security I felt in the full light of the second moon.” 

“How old were you when Cook took you from Vulpana?” The Doctor asked, gently setting her bag by his feet. 

“I was taken by a motley crew of slavers,” Mags growled. “My mother had warned me not to stray so far from home, but I was but a cub and didn’t listen. I escaped from them on a distant world, lost and frightened and hungry. Cook took me into his care, but I never felt that he had replaced my father. He was never really paternal in any sense, really.”

“It must be hard,” Rose said sympathetically. She received a shrug in response. 

“It was all that I knew. Still, you and I both know it is possible to miss something you never truly had.” 

“I’ve landed us a good five centuries from the year you were born,” the Doctor commented. Both women turned to look at him with quizzical expressions. “I’ve checked the timelines. Wanted to be sure that I was sending you to the place you belonged, and apparently that is not the world as you left it but the medieval period, prior to the collapse of the houses.” His brow furrowed slightly. “Why that is, I’m not entirely sure. But the TARDIS was quite insistent, and I will readily trust her guidance on such things. She hasn’t ever led me wrong.”

“Uh huh,” Rose retorted cheekily, drawing a strained but genuine smile from Mags as she crossed her arms and smirked at the designated driver. He frowned at her. 

“The TARDIS may not take me where I wish to go on a consistent basis, but you cannot deny that we are rarely ever in the place where we can do the least good when the trouble starts,” he pointed out. 

“Yeah, we’re always right in the middle of it,” Rose sighed, a smile quirking up the corners of her mouth. The Doctor matched it tentatively. Such things were the reason so many had left him, after all. “So what does that mean for the here and now?”

“...Not sure I follow.” 

“Is there anything we need to accomplish while we’re here?” Mags asked patiently. 

“I sincerely hope not,” the Doctor muttered sourly under his breath, casting his ship a suspicious glance. Rose snickered at that before freezing, the sound cutting off abruptly as she stiffened ramrod straight and her nostrils flared. Mags was immediately on the offensive when a low, threatening growl rumbled through her chest and the Doctor looked between the pair with a worried expression.

“What is it?” He asked, cautiously edging closer to the doors of the TARDIS and pulling out his key. 

“Wolves,” Rose growled. There was an odd, warbling cadence to her voice as her pupils dilated. “And I’m not sure they’re friendly.”

“Say the word,” Mags muttered. “The two of us will take them together.” 

“You, mean, ‘the three of us,’” the Doctor corrected. Both women turned slightly to give him an identical exasperated look and he deflated, shoulders slumping as he took on the petulant kicked puppy look. “I thought you said my Ba Gua was improving,” he murmured in a very small voice. 

“It is,” Rose assured him, lightly patting him on the shoulder. “But this is kind of our specialization area and we’ve only been working on the Ba Gua for a month. Takes _time_.” 

“Oh, ha ha...” Came the sarcastic reply.

“And you don’t want to get bitten,” Mags added almost as an afterthought. She was busy scanning the foliage. The Doctor’s eyes widened almost comically. 

“Why? Are- are you saying-“

“Mm? Oh! No, no. Vulpanans can’t turn others into Wolves with a bite. But our teeth and claws are quite poisonous, even to other members of our own species.”

“My species can when we choose to,” Rose muttered, pointedly running her tongue over the ridges of her teeth when he turned to look at her with a slightly slack jaw. “Food for thought...” 

“Not helping,” he whispered weakly, scanning the forest desperate for a distraction. 

“I smell strangers,” a voice growled harshly nearby. It was changed in much the same way Mags’ was when she had shifted, and it was answered by another voice of like kind. 

“I smell food.”

“Uh oh,” all three travelers murmured, swallowing. Rose shifted into a more defensive stance as Mags bared her teeth in the beginnings of a territorial snarl. The howl of an entire pack had them running as fast as their legs could carry them through the forest, twigs snapping underfoot and low-hanging branches whipping at their faces with the thundering rumble of many feet in pursuit. 

“I- I don’t understand,” the Doctor panted. “Wolves hunt- hunt in packs!”

“To surround their prey,” Mags panted in agreement. They both looked at Rose, ahead of them and breathing easily as if she were merely walking. Both groaned as they quickened their pace to try and catch up. All of a sudden she skidded to a halt, the pair crashing into her so that they all went flying over the edge of a small cliff and landing in a heap in a shallow creek. “Ow...”

“Why did we stop!?” The Doctor complained, standing and squeezing some of the moisture from his jumper. 

“Lights in the trees,” Rose said simply. He looked up and blinked. The multitude of shining lights blinked back. 

“...Oh... Oh, dear...” 

“Wolves hunt in packs, Doctor.” 

“Mine,” one panted eagerly.

“I saw it first,” a second growled, cutting the first off. “Me eat!”

“Like Hell you will,” Rose snapped, body twisting slightly as she shifted in place. The pack flinched back as if they’d been collectively smacked, whimpers and short huffs of fear drifting through the air. 

“If the Letoan doesn’t finish you first, I will,” Mags growled, shifting as well to match the pack. 

“The goddess is angry,” the second Wolf fretted, withdrawing. The first Wolf merely growled, shook out his fur, and lunged forward with about a third of the pack following. 

Chaos erupted in the clearing and Mags let out a howl of challenge that all but shook the trees. 

~§§~

_In a clearing a short distance from the fight, a hunting party composed of an aging but beautiful and strong woman and her three sons came to a stop at Mags’ howl. _

_“Do you hear that?” The woman asked eagerly, stopping her horse and leaning forward in her saddle._

_“Just some poachers mother,” the eldest sighed boredly. _

_“Yes, we’ll protect you,” the youngest added quickly. _

_“Since when did your mother fear poachers?” The woman scoffed. All four of them pricked their ears as the howl repeated itself. “Listen! Again, boys!”_

_“That’s a pureblood,” the middle determined, looking vaguely curious rather than interested. “And a female.”_

_“Oh, a _girl!_” The youngest whimpered. He was practically vibrating in his saddle with excitement. _

_“One of our own is in danger,” the eldest agreed. A gleam of intrigue had entered his eyes. _

_“If she’s truly one of our own she _is _the danger,” their mother chuckled knowingly. The youngest ignored this comment to spur his horse forward._

_“Come on, let’s find her!” _

~§§~

The Doctor let out a cry of startled pain as one of the poachers darted past their defenses and attached itself rather solidly to his leg. Orange-tinted blood quickly adorned the leafy forest floor as it seeped around the sharp yellowed teeth of his attacker; a few moments later the jaws had released and he sank to the ground to watch a rather blurry Rose bury her fangs into the ruffian’s foreleg. 

The beast crashed into the earth with a yelp as Rose tore at his fur but the Doctor couldn’t find it in him to tell her the creature had learned its lesson... 

He was really rather feeling quite light-headed, actually, and all of this was a tad bit unrealistic in his opinion...

...Ooh, what pretty moonslight...

“Food is hurt!” A third Wolf chuckled. It sounded more like a snarl. Rose rounded on him and flashed her teeth, her eyes blazing a gold so bright it was almost white. He hackles were raised and soft, golden-white steam was beginning to rise from her rich honey fur as she stalked toward the pack of poachers. The growl rumbling in her chest shook the loose stones of the creek’s embankment in the chalky soil and most of the group bawked at the very idea of coming near her. 

Mags snapped at the legs of a retreating poacher as she drew back to hover protectively over the Doctor’s limp form. His breathing was erratic, shallow, and labored as the bite’s poison worked its way through his system.

“Stay away!” She commanded, voice deep and rough. “He belongs to the Letoan! My pack! Mine! Stay away!” 

Rose let out a short bark that was like a clap of thunder as she lunged forward. The pack scrambled away from her and took off with a series of yelps and terrified whimpers into the trees. She paced side to side in a frenzied, angered pattern as if daring them to come back and let out a territorial howl. It rang clearly, the sound of clear glass chimes in a gentle wind but thrumming with power of an almost ethereal nature, and Mags shrank into her pelt as she crouched closer to the Doctor. She’d never seen her friend so... so...

...Well. There was a reason her species regarded Letoans as akin to demigods. 

“By the moons!” An unfamiliar voice gasped. Both females whirled around to take in the four newcomers on horseback, one warily and one entirely hostile as she prowled forward to stand between the Doctor and this new potential threat. 

All on horseback were a middle-aged woman and three young men. The resemblance was near enough for the entourage to heavily suggest familial ties; the woman had strong shoulders, a marbled jawline, and dark jade eyes. Elegantly-wrinkled sun-kissed skin held little makeup on the face aside from a painting of the lips, and grey-streaked ebony hair with violet quills in it hung in a loose braid down her back. Her hunting gown did little to mask the toned muscle underneath. 

The eldest of the three men was but a carbon copy of the woman. Early thirties, Jade eyes, quills tinted an indigo and raven hair cropped uninhibited to the shoulders, he had a strong lumberjack-type frame and commanding presence. Instinct immediately told Mags he was an Alpha. 

The middle of the three had a softer, slimmer profile. Mid-twenties, light green-brown eyes and wavy, short black hair, the quills hardly noticeable and of a soft umbre color. He screamed ‘intellectual’ rather than ‘physical,’ and despite being the middle Mags felt no sense of status from his person. 

The youngest appeared to be barely twenty, and while he was clearly an Alpha he still had to grow into the profile. The last of the gawky teen features was clinging stubbornly to his form. Excited navy blue eyes peered out from under too-long and untidy dark sandy brown hair, lavender purple quills bristling with excitement. He had been the one to draw their attention.

“A Letoan!” The youngest-looking of the three men continued his exclamation of surprise, drawing Mags from her musings. She shook her head and refocused. It had simply been so long since she’d seen another of her own kind... They were all regarding Rose with varying types and degrees of awe; for the eldest and youngest men, complete amazement, for the middle one a sort of complicated ponder, and for the woman a deep respect and the prospect of something less than pleasant lurking beneath the surface. 

“Magnificent,” the eldest of the men breathed. His gaze flicked to Mags and he smiled in a slightly seductive manner. “Quite magnificent...”

“If a little violent,” the second countered, regaining his composure.

“Perfection,” the third sighed almost dreamily.

“Manners,” the woman sighed. By the maternal nature Mags surmised she must be their mother. “Jaks. That’s no way to talk about a demi-goddess and a lady of pedigree.”

“‘Lady?’” Mags repeated gruffly, her Wolf form somewhat growling the words as she cautiously straightened from her protective hunch near her friend. Rose immediately took the opportunity to settle herself next to the Doctor and ignored the mounted party. Her nose lightly snuffled at his bangs as his eyes glazed over and his head slumped against her flank, broken English and Gallifreyan becoming a garbled mess as it passed through his mouth. Mags understood little to absolutely none of it. 

“Yes, a pureblood,” the eldest son added. “The breeding is unmistakeable.”

“Feel free to change, dear,” the woman encouraged. “Don’t be embarrassed.” Her gaze shifted to Rose then. “Ah... either of you, of course...” 

When Mags hesitated, looking to Rose for direction as her superior Luna, Rose huffed and reluctantly stood on her paws before shifting and shaking out her hair. She just as quickly crouched back on the ground and settled the Doctor’s head in her lap as she swept his bangs from his damp forehead. Mags followed suit, breathing out a relieved sigh as her fangs and claws retracted and the quills of her hair settled into smooth indifference. She placed herself solidly between her friends and the strangers.

“Wow,” the youngest son breathed. 

“She’s every bit as beautiful in daylight form,” the eldest agreed. The middle one - Jaks, his mother had called him - merely rolled his eyes. “And the Letoan...” 

“I’m gonna stop you right there, mate,” Mags said sweetly but firmly as Rose tilted her head up to glare at him. She gestured to the Doctor. “As an Alpha of the Second Moon, I was wondering if you could help my friends and I...”

“Of course dear, of course,” the woman said quickly, cutting off whatever overexcited comment the youngest was about to say. “We’ll provide shelter, rest, food... even treatment for your serf’s wounds.”

“He’s not my serf,” Mags countered just as quickly. “He belongs to Rose.”

“The Lady Rose,” the youngest sighed. Mags didn’t miss the way his gaze travelled appreciatively over both of their feminine forms and barely suppressed a sigh when she saw the eldest doing the very same. Unmated male Wolves, raging instincts, all the same... _honestly_. “Can we take them home, mother?”

“They’re _people,_” Jaks muttered, rolling his eyes again. He sounded absolutely disgusted. “Why don’t you _ask them?_”

“_I’ll _ask them, I’m the eldest,” the eldest snapped. He cleared his throat and assumed a far more congenial attitude than he had been using moments prior with his brother. 

“Dear ladies, I am Issak of the Clan Benger. These are my brothers Jaks and Tob, and my mother Ulla. She is matriarch of the Second Moon Pack. It would honor us greatly if you would allow us to care for your needs this evening.”

“Pleasure’s all ours I’m sure,” Mags said somewhat resignedly with a nod. “I’m Mags, and this is Rose Tyler, and... and the Doctor.” 

“We must hurry if we wish to save his life,” Jaks pointed out. His words were patient but there was an underlying urgency beneath them that had Rose’s ears perking up. His brothers rolled their eyes but their mother merely nodded in agreement. 

“You can share my horse, Lady Mags,” Tob offered eagerly. 

“Lady Rose, you ride with me,” Issak stated commandingly. He shrank slightly in his saddle as Rose bared her teeth at him, making it clear she well knew her superior status and was exercising it.

“Might I suggest your horse carry their friend?” Jaks interceded calmly. “You have the strongest one and it can support both your weights easily. I can ride with mother, giving my horse to the Lady.” 

“The idea shows promise,” Mags said quickly as it appeared a quarrel would start up. “But I’d much rather ride with Rose.”

“Sounds like as good a plan as any,” Rose sighed. Jaks nodded, dismounting. Issak snarled softly at him as he too dismounted, and the pair carefully loaded a now-unconscious Doctor onto the steed. While this had transpired Rose had climbed into the saddle and helped Mags up behind her. 

The ride to the castle was a short but tense one with Issak and Tob having ridden farther ahead to get the Doctor as speedily as possible to the castle. It was broken only by the clatter of the horse’s hooves over rough terrain as the forest sped by. Eventually, Ulla felt the need to begin conversation anew.

“I apologize for my sons,” she said quietly. The only indication Jaks gave of paying attention to the conversation was a slight flick of his ear. “They can be a bit... overzealous at times. But they’re all thoroughbreds, and all quite unmarried.”

“O-oh?” Mags asked a touch nervously. 

“Which means you’ll be looking for women to arrange marriages with,” Rose summarized flatly. 

“You understand,” Ulla confirmed unabashedly. “They’ve never lacked for female companionship, but when it comes to marriage... well, they’ll do their duty by their house. I’m sure a Letoan can understand the value of pure breeding in these mongrel times.”

“Actually, no, I can’t,” Rose replied smoothly. “I was born as part of the ‘mongrels’ as you call them. Letoans are far more inclusive than that.” It was a bald-faced lie, seeing as she knew nothing about her own species, but she figured that if they’d let Jimmy in their standards couldn’t be too snobbish. Ulla blinked.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.” She took a moment to mentally regroup, then started up again. “Of course, the fire of the Wolf Goddess now flows in your veins and purges the impurities.” Her attention shifted to Mags. “And you, Lady Mags?” 

“I was stolen from Vulpana as a cub,” Mags said honestly. “I wouldn’t know about such things. But are pureblood a really so rare that-“

“Your origins do not concern me so much as your stock,” Ulla answered immediately. Her eyes glimmered with amusement. “Whichever of my sons you choose, you will have chosen well.”

“I’m not in the market for a husband,” Mags murmured, confident in saying so only because Rose’s entire posture had gone ramrod stiff in the saddle. 

“But you soon will be,” Ulla said matter of factly. “Issak is the most dependable. Tob may be more handsome and generally better-groomed, but... as the eldest and heir of our position, Issak better understands responsibility. A mother knows her cubs.”

“And what about the Jaks?” Mags asked, casting a glance at the sullen middle child riding behind his mother. He blinked at her and looked away, swallowing as Ulla sighed. 

“Jaks is... clever,” she finally said diplomatically. It didn’t escape anyone’s notice that she’d chosen her words carefully. 

“Well that’s good. Commendable.”

“Personally, I feel _thinking _is better left to females.” Jaks slumped in the saddle, jaw clenching. “Something for us to get on with while the males howl and fight.”

“The Doctor is the smartest person I’ve ever met,” Rose said firmly, staring straight ahead. “It should be encouraged for _anyone_ regardless of age, class, species, _and _gender to better educate themselves.”

“A bit touchy on the subject, dear?” Ulla asked kindly. 

“Everyone gave up on me because of my class when I was born,” Rose growled softly. “To the point where I gave up on me too. Left school early for a bloke. Look how that ended up.” Mags gasped over her shoulder as they came into view of a massive, medieval castle and she let the conversation drop. 

Castle Benger was located in the middle of the forest on the edge of a lake. Part of the river formed the moat around it, a drawbridge built over top. Battlements and spires rose high into the air with banners of the clan and pack proudly flying. The stone was old but well-kept, its creamy blue-tinged coloring making it fade almost into obscurity against the backdrop of like-colored trees. Four moons of varying size hung in the night sky; the largest a blood red waxing crescent, the second a sickly lime green and all but full, the third a sky blue of thin sliver, and the smallest of the four a pastel teal waning orb still mostly full. All in all it was the most beautiful thing Mags had ever seen. Whereas Maleeva’s castle on Gokroth had screamed ‘strangers not welcome’ this gave off the vibe of warmth and homecoming.

They passed over the drawbridge and into a large courtyard, the high walls closing them in protectively rather than stifling. Jaks was the first to slip off the horse, patiently and dutifully helping his mother dismount. Tob and Issak’s horses were nearby, being led toward the stables, and as they walked to the entrance more servants appeared to take their mounts as well. 

“Nice place you’ve got here,” Mags commented appreciatively. Ulla smiled.

“All of it will be Issak’s one day,” she said pointedly. “Not only is he eldest, but he is also the more dominant Alpha.”

“Wouldn’t that spark resentment?” Rose asked curiously. “What if Tob had been the more dominant? Or Jaks, for that matter? Would he lose his birthright?”

“Not necessarily,” Jaks explained easily. “Tob - or I, I suppose - would move to challenge in ritual combat. Whoever emerged victorious would automatically inherit the title and lands.”

“If you bested Issak, he’d automatically cede?” Rose frowned, her nose wrinkling slightly as she thought. “Yeah, doesn’t sound like there’d be no hard feelings.” For the first time that evening Jaks smiled. 

“Quite right, milady. You see the primary issue with our form of governance and the grievances it has caused over the millennium straight away.”

“I work with the First, Third, and Fourth Moon houses as well as my own Moon’s to find a more... beneficial solution on a ceaseless basis, but as yet no such luck has been forthcoming,” Ulla sighed. She smiled proudly at Jaks, the first sign of positive affection she’d shown toward him since they’d met in the forest. “My son has a mind for politics, and the attempt at reform has gone much more smoothly with his endeavors.”

“...Thank you, mother.” His expression soured as his two brothers came bounding down the corridor toward them, both overeager and anxious. Despite both of them being much bigger than he was he remained unperturbed. “Ah, yes. Apologies, ladies. But my brothers get one sniff of a woman of breeding and revert back to pups, it seems...”

“And when was the last time _you _sniffed a female, _Omega?_” Issak retorted snidely. Tob snickered at the remark as Jaks’ shoulders hunched at the label. 

“None of that language,” Ulla snapped irritably, gliding down the hall. The rest fell into step behind her. “None of my boys are _Omegas_. Now, to the banquet hall. It is only hospitable of us as hosts to get our guests something to eat.”

“I should go see the Doctor,” Rose murmured distractedly. She sniffed the air a few times and hesitantly started in the opposite direction, eyes briefly blazing a hot gold when Issak put a hand on her shoulder to guide her back the other way. He quickly let go. 

“Your servant is being seen to Lady Rose,” he said smoothly. It was hard to tell if any feathers had been ruffled. 

“He’s not my servant, he’s my-“ She cut herself off, frustrated, and sighed. “He’s a Time Lord, from the planet Gallifrey. We travel together across the stars.”

“An Outlander!” Tob, though just as eager to please, was far less over-bearing of both their guests. It was likely due to the last remaining vestiges of his adolescent nature. “Oh, how fascinating...”

“Our doctors can heal him,” Jaks said decisively. “Dr. Barton is the best on Vulpana.” 

“Rose, it’s been a long day and we haven’t eaten since breakfast,” Mags said gently. “I’m sure we’ll be told if there’s any change in his condition.” Jaks affected a short bow. 

“I’ll see to that personally. I’ll just relay the instructions and join you in progress for dinner.”

“Thank you, Jaks.” 

~§§~

“Fever’s abated... temperature normal... I think...”

“Mm...” The Doctor blinked as he came to in a somewhat dingy but functional examination room. He’d been placed on a cot near a window and sighed as the cool, misty air of a forest drizzle reached his senses.

“Well, hello there,” the same voice that had roused him said cheerfully. The Doctor blinked again, the form of a blonde-haired Vulpanan with magenta quills and striking grey eyes greeting him. 

...A little too close for comfort...

“Where am I?” He asked, trying to edge away as politely as possible from the woman. She smiled and took a few steps back, to which he let out a soft exhale of relief.

“Castle Benger,” the doctor replied succinctly. “I’m Dr. Barton. You were bitten quite badly by one of the poachers.”

“I can tell,” he muttered dryly, wincing at the flame of pain and irritated nerves in his leg. A soft inhale and exhale in repetition accompanied the practiced art of him regulating his body to suppress the pain receptors and to kickstart rapid healing in that particular section of his body. The cuts and bruises could wait. “I came to this place with two friends-“

“The Ladies Rose and Mags,” Barton summarized. “They’re fine.” She reached over to a table and pulled a bottle toward them as she perched on the edge of his cot. “Now, drink this. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” 

The Doctor took it, sniffed it, and resisted the urge to hiss as he quickly set it on the nearby table. 

“Only if you want to kill me, I’m afraid. If the two hearts didn’t alert you to my extraterrestrial status, that surely will.” 

“I’m told you are a doctor too,” Barton said carefully, taking the bottle and moving it far from his reach. 

“_The _Doctor,” he corrected with a smile. “My planet goes by titles as often as we do our Academy Names.”

“...I see.”

“It’s clear you don’t, but I take no offense. So, to whom do I have the honor of thanking for our rescue?” He asked, sitting up and grunting as he carefully avoided putting too much weight on his injured leg. 

“The clan of Benger. They govern the Pack of the Second Moon.”

“Oh, that’s lucky,” the Doctor sighed.

“I’ll say,” Barton snorted. It wasn’t a pleasant sound for such a cultured feminine voice. “You’ve somehow managed to make friends with a Letoan _and _a female Alpha of the Second Moon.” She turned and began tidying her work area. “It’s a good day to be you.”

“Mm...” he frowned as he watched her for a few moments. “Dr. Barton, I hope this won’t be taken the wrong way, but something tells me that you hold some resentment about that.”

“I don’t.” Her shoulders slumped slightly. “But as a peasant I can’t change with the moons. I’m lower than the Omegas and have no hope of raising my status. But you... you’ve unwittingly made yourself at least _valuable _by the members of court simply because of who you know.” She shook herself slightly and made an effort to lighten the mood. “Who knows? You might find a spot in the court itself as a person of interest if all goes well with the courting of your mistresses.”

The Doctor’s jaw dropped slightly as he processed her last statement.

“...I’m sorry, what?” 

~§§~

“Would you like some wine, Lady Rose?” Issak asked, already pouring her a glass. Rose eyes it longingly and shook her head. 

“Want, yes. Have, no. I don’t drink anymore.” Issak nodded, moving her glass away from her and replacing it with clear water.

“Lady Mags?”

“I think I should eat something first,” Mags said wisely. “Best not to drink on an empty stomach.”

“A commendable attitude. I’ll fetch you some canapés.”

“No, no, I will,” Tob interjected, springing to a stand. “You brought the drinks. It’s my turn.” 

“Is it fun, being fought over like a piece of fresh meat?” Jaks asked with a soft smirk as his brothers disappeared from the room. 

“No,” Rose muttered. “And I’m not, either. And neither is Mags.”

“So you _would _rather be the _hunter_ than the _hunted_. I thought as much when I first saw you.”

“Maybe we don’t want to be either,” Mags countered, leaning forward slightly. Jaks matched her movement.

“Purebloods are _hunters_. It’s in their _nature_.”

“Don’t you mean ‘our’ nature?” 

“Leave the females alone, _Omega_,” Issak snarled as he returned with a few plates of different kinds of meats. “They’re _mine_.”

“I belong to _no one_,” Rose snarled. “And you’d do well to remember it.”

“And yet here we are, courting,” Tob replied cheerfully. Rose sighed, shoulders slumping as she slid down in her seat looking to all the world as if she were praying the table would swallow her whole. “Would either of you like some Boar’s Head?”

“Or perhaps a haunch of Venison,” Issak countered. “Unless you prefer the entrails.” 

“I’ll take a little of everything, give it all a try,” Mags said tactfully. Rose merely muttered ‘haunch’ as it was the least offensive thing to her sensibilities and spent the next half hour absently pushing the pieces around on her plate. She shot Jaks a grateful look when he deposited some Vulpanan fruit pieces from his own meal and nibbled on one, smiling slightly at the delicate flavor. He returned a sympathetic glance in her direction. 

~§§~

“Doctor, are you feeling quite well?” Barton asked. Her tone was soft and concerned as she took in his defeated posture. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He replied, flashing her a false smile and shrugging indifferently. “I’m always all right.” 

“Well it’s just that I seem to have upset you.” 

“Over what?”

“The topic of matrimony?” The facade crumbled back into despondency and she sighed, sitting on the edge of the cot beside him. “I am sorry, Doctor. But people like us... their kind don’t mix with our kind.“

“Wolves and Non-Wolves, you mean.” 

“Exactly.” Barton’s eyes glittered with bitterness. “We’re just servants for them. Everything’s about purity, preserving the House.”

“And if you had the chance to become like them, that would be better?”

“Of course. My status. My future children might have had the chance to marry purebloods.”

“And that’s better? Truly?” Slow anger crept into his voice as he stood with a wince and began a limping pace around the tiny infirmary. “To be a part of a structured society designed to keep the low in their place and perpetuate the high positions only for those who had initially attained them?”

“You’re an Outlander, I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” Barton huffed. The Doctor grimaced, coming to a stop by the window and frowning up at the sky. 

“That’s the problem you see,” he sighed. “I _do _understand. My people perfected the art of cold, logical matrimonial arrangements long before the dust of your solar system had formed the core of your world.” He shook his shoulders slightly to rid his mind of the images of hot dusty air and red grass under a burnt orange sky. “I wonder, could you show me the best spot to stargaze? I think a bit of fresh air would do me some good.”

“The battlements,” Barton said with a nod, adjusting easily to the abrupt change in topic. “I’ll take you there.” 

~§§~

Dinner had been over and done with for a good long time in Rose’s opinion, but she forced herself to sit still and watch as Mags went through her cadre of circus tricks. If she left, the attentions of the two brothers would be focused solely on the poor girl. As much as she worried after the Doctor, he’d survived just fine on his own for the prior 800 something years of his life that he’d lived without her. Mags needed her _here_, and she needed her _now_. 

The one comfort of the evening was Jaks. He seemed to feel he’d found a kindred spirit - which he wasn’t wrong about - and had slowly gravitated closer and closer toward her as time elapsed. They were currently seated so close their elbows were lightly brushing when they moved them. While the proximity was a little over-familiar in both their opinions, it did afford them a quiet and private conversation. 

Issak and Tob had snapped at Jaks when he’d scooted his chair closer, but they’d shut up when Rose had pointedly picked her chair up and dropped it right next to his. Her message had been clear to leave him alone. Mags was currently running through card tricks.

“Are all Letoans so different from Vulpanans?” Jaks whispered. “So eager to be inclusive and open-minded?” Rose shrugged.

“I wouldn’t know. I was bitten by one when I was only twenty. He wanted to mate with me, and for a Letoan that’s forever. He would have done it forcibly if I’d stayed, so I ran from home. And eventually... he left. He left me behind. The only exposure I’ve ever gotten to Letoan culture has been a twisted, perverted version of it.”

“Letoans are regarded as demigods in Vulpanan culture,” Jaks explained softly. “This is because they wield great inner strength and power from their Mother, Leto. The stars burn in their very blood and shine from their eyes, the solar winds whipping through their fur as they run.” His voice took on a reverent, sort of story-telling quality. “All Wolves of the... ah... shape-changer variety are adaptations of the Letoans. They come to a planet and, for whatever reason, choose to settle. The Wolf in them lives and adapts to the new environment quite quickly, so that by the third generation they are perfectly suited to their new home.”

“This sounds like a mix of legend and science,” Rose teased. Jaks flashed a rueful smile. 

“A bit of both,” he conceded. “While we don’t trade with the Outlands they are allowed to land their ships on our planet to resupply. Under heavy watch, of course.”

“Of course.”

“At any rate, Letoans have often been compared to the Fenrins as foils in our stories-“

“Fenrins?”

“Yes. As Leto has her Wolves, so does Fenric. Look at it from the idea of Light and Dark, and the Balance. All Light has a tiny bit of Dark in it, and Dark a tiny bit of Light.”

“Yin and Yang, two parts of a balanced whole,” Rose breathed. “But who _are _Leto and Fenric?” Jaks shrugged. 

“No one really knows. The Vulpanan legends say that Fenric was the Dark and Leto was the Light. They fought each other constantly, and when Fenric triumphed Leto sacrificed herself by giving a tiny fragment of her soul to those dedicated to the Light. To protect the universe, to guard it from the Dark forever. She gave them the strength and calling to become that.”

“That’s... interesting,” Rose responded tactfully. Jaks dipped his head in concession.

“I admit it isn’t the most accurate interpretation of what true events may have been. Who knows? Leto and Fenric may just be stories themselves.” 

“...Maybe.” Rose bit her lip, lost in thought as she processed all that she’d been told. It was a right sight better than what she’d started out with. “What’s the Letoan homeworld supposed to be like, Jaks?” He blinked.

“There isn’t one. All Letoans are children of Leto and the world upon which they were born. They can be born as Letoans from their parents, but will remain a child of two, or even sometimes three, worlds.” His gaze turned sympathetic. “The legend goes that there was a danger of Leto’s mission being stolen and kept hidden from the universe, so she made it that everyone belonged.” 

“A child of Earth, and a child of the stars,” Rose sighed softly, looking toward the distant pinpricks of light. She suddenly felt the need to be much closer to them. 

“Was I am a child of Vulpana and a child of the Second moon,” Jaks hummed. “It is almost full. Tomorrow will be the hunt and the festivities of the full Second Moon. They rarely cycle, you see. There are so many of them. Each Pack hosts just such an event once per season.”

“Sounds a bit ominous, that. Don’t suppose your mum’s looking for a wedding to prolong the occasion?”

“Took the words right out of my mouth...” Jaks grimaced as he watched his older brother pull a card out of the wild boar’s head. “Mags seems to be the perfect daughter for her.”

“Don’t decide you don’t like her until you get to know her, Jaks,” Rose murmured, patting his hand absently as she heard Ulla start explaining the Moon Day Festival to the object of their conversation. “Mags wants nothing more than to control the Wolf inside. To be her own person. You want the same, don’t you?”

“...Of sorts,” Jaks murmured, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Rose’s eyes widened in understanding as a pitying expression crossed her face.

“Oh, Jaks,” she sighed. “Give Mags a chance. She doesn’t care about who’s Alpha and who’s not. She wants to know someone, to be cared for and not just set upon a pedestal as someone’s trophy. She’s been that, by a man who should have loved her as a father. She needs a friend, a confidant, now.”

“Will she not leave with you when you return to the stars?”

“No. Being away from the moons for so long began hurting her. She needs the cycle to normalize the change.”

“At the very least I will look after her,” Jaks sighed. Rose patted his hand again.

“Just give her a chance.” 

~§§~

“The Four Moons of Vulpana,” the Doctor sighed softly. “Four bright sisters, dancing the night, in an intricate cotillion.” 

“That sounds like a poem,” Barton breathed, breath misting in the cool autumn night air. 

“That’s because it is.” His mouth quirked slightly in a smile. “Trouble is, it hasn’t been written yet.” He ignored her confused expression and spoke the next verse. “Never meeting, never clashing, imposing heavenly order. As above, so below, people ruled not by each other, but by the moons themselves.”

“That’s a rather... romantic view of it,” Barton muttered. 

“Yes well... no one can accuse me of being a romantic,” he sighed. She glanced him over speculatively.

“I just think I might,” she murmured, a soft and pitying smile gracing her lips. She puffed out a gust of air and hummed. “I think I’ll leave you to your moons and stars, Doctor. I have work to finish.”

“Cheers,” he replied distractedly, squinting up into the pinpricked darkness.

~§§~

“There will be dancing!” Tob exclaimed, spinning around in the vast dining hall as he described the events of the Moon Day Festival. “Lady Rose, it would do our family and myself the highest honor if you would give me the first dance.” Rose opened her mouth the decline when Issak hotly cut her off. 

“Mother, tell him, _I’m the oldest._” 

“Then you should be able to get your _own _dance without whining to mummy about it,” Rose snapped. She smiled politely at an irritated Tob and lightly patted his shoulder as she stood and walked past toward the hall. “I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. You’ll make someone a very handsome dance partner, Tob. Don’t worry about it.” 

He flashed a somewhat besotted and wavering smile at her as she left the room, and she winced when she heard bickering start up again as the two now turned their efforts upon Mags. Rose _did _feel a bit bad about quite literally leaving her to the Wolves, but she’d stayed away long enough and the call of the stars was beckoning. 

She inhaled softly with a satisfied smile as the Doctor’s scent wafted down the staircase to the battlements and engulfed her in a comforting embrace. Anticipation built in her as she quickened her step and all but burst into the night air, chuckling lightly as he was numb to the world around him. Biting her lip to stop her laughter, she stepped close and wrapped her arms around his waist to rest her chin on his shoulder. He let out a startled yelp and jumped, relaxing as her teasing voice whispered in his ear. 

“Is this a bad time?”

“Rose,” he exhaled, entire tensed form slumping with relief. “Don’t _do _that when we’re in a castle full of carnivores, please.”

“Sorry Doctor,” Rose chuckled. She followed his gaze into the sky and frowned. “What’s wrong with it?” 

“You can see it too then?”

“...Not see, exactly, but...” The Doctor blinked, extricating himself from her embrace to better see her face. Her jaw was slack with dumbfounded surprise as she gazed upward. 

“What is it?” 

“There’s a fifth moon, Doctor. A dark moon.” She pointed into the stillness. “There.”

“I don’t see anything,” he admitted. 

“You have to look for what isn’t there.”

“I don’t- oh.” And suddenly, he saw it too. Where a particular constellation should have resided the sky was black and round. Something was obscuring the stars, blotting them out. “Oh, that’s...”

“Definitely not natural?” Rose summarized with a cheeky tongue-touched grin. The Doctor swallowed. 

“Not in the slightest.” He took a breath and changed the topic. “How are things upstairs?” 

“You ever watch ‘Downton Abbey?’” Rose asked dryly. He let out a sympathetic hum and she nodded. “Exactly. Drama. Drama at every turn. Wolf style. Mags and I have both had two marriage proposals in the last four hours... from the two same people.” She shook her head slightly. “Guess they assume that whichever one one of us picks the other will go to the other of us. What a mess.”

“So, which _will _you choose?” The Doctor asked sullenly, slumping on the stone balcony railing of the battlements. 

“Choose? Wha- Doctor, why would you-“ Rose cut herself off as their gaze met, his eyes soft and vulnerable and filled with the kind of pain only one who has known abandonment can recognize and the words died on her tongue. Her mouth formed a small ‘oh’ as she stepped closer to him, laying each of her hands over each of his hearts. They both sped up nervously on contact to match the rabbiting, nervous pace of her own.

“Doctor. It was so painfully, embarrassingly obvious, I thought... I thought you...” The sentence trailed off as she gathered her courage and added, “I chose a long time ago. I just didn’t realize that you didn’t- mm...” the last of the words scattered to the four winds and turned to a soft, desperate murmur of appreciation as the Doctor tentatively leaned down and kissed her full on the mouth. 

He pulled back after a few moments of her being unresponsive with a nervous breath. 

“I- Rose, if- if that wasn’t- what I mean to say is that, I don’t want to ruin our friendship- mph!” Rose leaned forward and all but pinned him to the railing as she more than enthusiastically reciprocated his affections, holding them together far longer than he had. They broke abruptly apart when she whirled around and stared suspiciously at the entrance to the battlements. 

“So-“ the Doctor coughed, panting for breath and a stable hearts rhythm. “Friendship effectively ruined, then?”

“...I think the best romantic relationships come from being friends first, Doctor, and _staying _best friends,” Rose whispered, turning back toward him. She flashed him a soft smile. “Better with two?”

“Better with you,” he breathed, leaning forward and resting his forehead against hers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH GOOD GOD. 
> 
> So, I’m thinking ahead right? And eventually in this series I want to include Amy and Rory. Poor Five. With Rory being as death-prone as he is that will prove to be a tad traumatic... 😐
> 
> BTW I had gotten to 4,000 words and was only about ten minutes into the actual audio content before I realized how long this was going to be... but man, am I enjoying this so much...
> 
> This is “the story,” guys, if you couldn’t tell. This is “the one.”
> 
> Going forward, this will help with the names for pronunciation:  
-Issak (pronounced like the typical “Isaac”)  
-Jaks (literally the plural of “Jack”)  
-Tob (like “Toby,” but without the “e”)  
-Barton (think Hawkeye...)  
-Ulla (OOH-LAH)  
-Benger (BEN-j-AIR)


	30. The Moons of Vulpana II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PART 2 OF 4.
> 
> Sorry I’m late! Was inspired to write a wedding scene for something else and was also way too stoked over Ubisoft revealing gameplay for “Assassin’s Creed Valhalla” to properly focus on writing recently...

_“Did you see her!?” Issak spat, pacing in the confined alcove. Tob huffed softly through his nose and nodded. “What does he think he’s playing at? He must think he’s _so impressive _to be sniffing after a Letoan, to be on the receiving end of her affections.” _

_“They are both Outlanders,” Tob pointed out. “Their customs are likely different than ours.”_

_“But the privilege of mating her should fall to us,” Issak hissed. “Whichever she chooses.”_

_“She chose _him_,” Tob whimpered dejectedly. If he’d had a tail it would be curled between his legs. “And it seems to be mutual.”_

_“He isn’t a _Wolf_, Tob!” A snarl worked its way up his throat. “He’s not a _pureblood_. Just a common mongrel. Any cubs she might bear should be of exquisite breeding.”_

_“She’s not a Vulpanan, Issak,” Tob said softly. “And you shouldn’t see her as one. Didn’t you see her in that creek this evening? She shone like a sun, teeth bared, heat rising from her fur to mingle with the dusk vapors... she was protecting _him, Issak. _He was injured, and she would have moved the Heavens themselves if she had to to save him. When the moon goddesses bid we answer, do we not obey? What more can you ask of a Star? You know the legends just as I do.” _

_“But if he were out of the way...” _

_“...What do you have in mind?” _

~§§~

“Lady Mags,” Jaks said coolly. His voice was as chill as the air seeping in through the exterior windows and his stance stiff as Mags approached him. “Why are you following me?”

“You and Rose seemed to connect at dinner,” Mags said just as frostily, crossing her arms over her chest. “You need to leave her alone.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“She belongs with the Doctor.” At this, Jaks actually smiled and relaxed. 

“I can assure you, I have no interest in courting your friend,” he reassured. “We connected merely as kindred spirits in a world that suits us ill.”

“It certainly isn’t the one I was born into,” Mags muttered, stance becoming congenial rather than hostile. “But... maybe that isn’t such a bad thing.”

“It must be bad to think this place is perfection.”

“Oh, long way from that thanks. But better. More civilized, if you can believe it.”

“Sounds... sad.”

“It was,” she sighed, shoulders slumping. All of the fight seemed to leave her with that tiny admission and Jaks’ expression softened. 

“Rose explained that you would be here now, for good,” he said slowly. She met his eye and nodded reluctantly. “Just know that, whatever you choose, I made a promise to her to look after you. Should that mean you wish to leave the castle, I can arrange for that to happen. If you wish to stay - unmarried, that is, I...”

“I somehow doubt your mother would appreciate that,” Mags scoffed. Jaks winced, face actually flaming with embarrassment.

“You could marry me,” he offered, before quickly adding, “only in ceremony. We could arrange for different chambers, meal times, even council appointments. If you find someone you would wish to marry in earnest, an annulment - and I do mean an _annulment _\- could be arranged. We would only have to see each other on a rare or accidental basis.”

“Or for societal appearances,” Mags muttered acerbically.

“I think you’ll find that it is a well-known fact on Vulpana that many couples wed only for political gain,” he sighed dryly. “We would not even have to pretend to like each other. No one would think anything of it.”

“I doubt that.”

“You’ll see for yourself tomorrow when the other Houses and families show up.” Jaks waved dismissively. “The fact is, Mags, that I am an Omega. No female is ever going to give me a second sniff, so don’t presume I’m trying to back you into a corner. I have no prospects whatsoever and don’t feel any need to hide that fact due to its obviousness. I do not suggest this in some sort of clever ploy. I merely offer it as a way for you to remain at Castle Benger, if you wish, without being pursued by my brothers. It is one choice among a baker’s dozen that you have to mull over, so don’t read anything into it.” He shrugged slightly and affected a short bow. “I take my leave for the evening. Sleep well.” 

Mags watched him with a frown as he walked off, a professional air to his person, and blinked. His proposal really _had _been all business, oddly enough. He was certainly trying to live up to the promise he’d given Rose earlier that evening. 

~§§~

“For a society that seems dead set on ignoring science, this lab is state of the medieval art,” Rose whistled as she sat on the Doctor’s cot and swung her legs back and forth. The Doctor himself barely glanced her way as he pocketed a few odds and ends that had caught his eye before turning and leaning against the workbench.

“Practically Renaissance,” he agreed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Doesn’t make much sense, does it?”

“About as much sense as a fifth Dark Moon,” Rose pointed out. “Has to be artificial. Thing is, if the technology of the planet is only _here_...”

“...Then who could have built it and why?” He summarized for her, finishing the sentence. She beamed at him and stood, walking over to lean against the workbench beside him and flashing him a tongue-touched grin. “...Rose, since everything is all out in the open, I think this is as good a time as any to tell you that that smile of yours drives me mad...”

“Oh good, it works then,” she retorted cheekily, the tongue-touched grin only widening as his gaze zeroed in on the flash of pink like a homing pigeon. A soft growl rumbled in his chest as he leaned over and pecked her on the lips.

“Stop it,” he whispered, though the tone of his voice very much _reluctantly _suggested otherwise. “We’re on a mission here.” 

“‘S just a new dynamic between us Doctor,” Rose breathed back. “Take time to get used to, but if there’s anything we’ve got an abundance of it’s that.” She lightly knocked her elbow against his arm and blessedly scooted a few inches over to give him some much-needed space for clarity. His mind was screaming at him to forge the Empathic connection that she wasn’t telepathically compatible enough to support, and besides that it was something that needed to be discussed verbally beforehand. 

“If we’re to get to the bottom of whatever it is that’s going on here, I’ll need the TARDIS and a good orbital view,” he murmured thoughtfully. “Don’t suppose you could politely ask Lady Ulla to have the Old Girl transported here?”

“She’s practically willing to do anything I ask with the hopes that it’ll make me more willing to become her daughter-in-law,” Rose snorted, returning to closer proximity and sighing happily as she nuzzled against his shoulder. 

“Well, I may be wrong, but I rather think I’ve got a leg to stand on against that,” the Doctor replied with a cheeky smile as he tugged the sleeve of her jumper down, idly fixing the issue out of subconscious movement. “Are you planning on going to that festival tomorrow?”

“‘Course. Be my Plus One?”

“Funny, I thought I already was,” he purred, dropping his chin to rest against her forehead as she giggled and swatted him lightly on the chest.

“Doesn’t hurt to ask,” she pointed out. An awkward cough sounded from the doorway and they leapt apart to see Dr. Barton standing uncertainly in the doorway with an unsettled look on her face. 

“Dr. Barton, my apologies,” the Doctor said quickly, taking the time to compose himself. “I wasn’t aware you had entered in.”

“I... have been standing here for a good five minutes,” she admitted, then immediately changed the subject without once glancing at Rose out of sheer embarrassment. “Did you mean what you said, about an artificial fifth moon?”

“Have there been any cases of Wolves acting strangely recently?” Rose asked. 

“Or perhaps among the non-Wolf population?” The Doctor added. Such was their friendship and newly-budding romance that it was no trouble at all for them to switch seamlessly back to total business after a quick bout of flirtatious wordplay. 

“No to the first, yes to the second,” Barton replied, gaze flicking between the two contemplatively. “There have been several recent cases of members of the peasant class acting out in very violent and animalistic manners, but none of my - admittedly sparse - colleagues could determine a cause much less a cure. And with the legal system such as it is on Vulpana, they have been sent to prison.”

“Prison!?” The Doctor exclaimed. 

“Makes sense,” Rose mused. “The planet doesn’t have the ability to put them in a secure medical institution where they can’t be a harm to themselves or others, and people would get hurt if they were left to wander free... not saying it’s a particularly humane or effective temporary solution mind, but I see the logic behind it until something else can be done.” Her gaze flicked about the tiny clinic and she frowned. “No place to put them up here, where they can be attended to...”

“I go down to the cells every day to monitor their progress,” Barton sighed. “Some regress back to their proper mental state, but so few have done so that they remain in their cages in case a relapse occurs.” 

“When did that start up?” The Doctor asked. “About a month ago?”

“Three.”

“Ah. So that gives us our time frame for when the new moon was put in.”

“I’ll get to work on bringing the TARDIS here,” Rose murmured, standing on tiptoe to peck him on the cheek and smiling when he purred appreciatively in response before sauntering out of the clinic with a slight sway in her hips.

“She’s trouble,” Barton warned, immediately turning to reprimand the Doctor who blinked and refocused his attentions on her. 

“She’s _perfect,_” he hummed happily. “Now, I need to see a man about a man about a dog.”

“What...?”

“Talk to you later, Barton!” He called over his shoulder as he followed Rose out. 

He’d barely gotten two feet from the clinic door before someone had grabbed him, slapped a hand over his mouth, and hauled him off with a sour and angry growl shaking his bones. 

~§§~

“Lady Ulla, can I have a word?” Rose asked. Ulla paused in walking toward her chambers and nodded.

“Of course.”

“In the clearing where you found us, you may have noticed a large blue box. I was wondering if it could be brought here,” Rose explained as she jogged to meet up with her, coming to a stop and smiling softly. 

“Is it important?”

“Very. It’s _very _important to us.”

“Then it will be brought in.” She nodded decisively, then began walking slowly forward again with Rose matching her step. “Have you enjoyed your stay?”

“We’re very grateful for all that you’ve done for us.” Ulla waved dismissively.

“It is our prerogative. Mags is one of our kind, and you are Letoan.” Her head tilted slightly to the side in consideration. “I heard you asking Jaks about your people at dinner, but he only told half of the story. Our people are descendants of your own, and as such we share many kinships. As our predecessor, however, you rank highest above all else. Alphas and Omegas mean little where Letoans are concerned. Even the mightiest Alpha would be honored above their station to mate with a Letoan Omega.”

“Why is that?” Rose asked curiously, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Not that I was concerned, being an Alpha and all.”

“Are you? Then we are triply graced by your presence among us. You see, in the War of the Old Ones, when the universe was new, creatures of the old universe crossed over the dimensions. Among them were Fenric and Leto, twin wolves. Jaks has told you their function in lore as dark and light, evil and good. But my son is not a poet. Look at the sky, tell me what you see.”

“Moons? Stars? Constellations,” Rose answered easily. Ulla’s chuckle caused her brow to furrow in confusion. “What am I missing?” 

“Vulpanan legends and fairytales,” Ulla explained. “I wouldn’t expect you to know them. But the story goes that, when Fenric bested Leto, she scattered herself into her children. This is given in visual representation. In the inky darkness and unending black of space, the crushing oppression of Fenric, tiny pinpricks of light illumine the shadow as stars. Leto lives on in the stars themselves, spread across the void. 

“It’s said that one should always wish on a shooting star, because it may be a Letoan passing through. Running through the Outlands with comets as their tails and starlight burning in their blood, in the light of their eyes. And if you’re lucky, that Letoan might hear you and answer your prayers.”

“That’s...” Rose let out a breath, more than a tiny bit overwhelmed. “Wow.” 

“Stay with us awhile,” Ulla offered leadingly with a coy smile. “We have _much _to offer.”

“I cannot accept any proposals put to me,” Rose said earnestly. The smile was immediately replaced with a less than pleasant facade of understanding. 

“And may I ask why?” 

“My heart belongs to someone else. And he has it completely.”

“You are already mated. I understand.”

“No, I-“ Rose cut herself off abruptly and bit her lip before nodding vigorously. “Yes. I- I am. And my species mates for life.” Ulla sighed in concession and gave a reluctant nod.

“I understand. I’ll speak with my sons about leaving you alone. It must be becoming quite... well. Unbearable, being sought after when you’re unavailable.” 

“Just a smidge, yeah.” Ulla picked up her pace in a more regal, businesslike manner as she nodded briskly and walked down the hall, leaving her behind. Rose slumped against a stone pillar and scrubbed at her face.

“Great. Now to tell my best friend that I just started dating, who I don’t even know if I should define as my boyfriend-“ her lip curled slightly in disgust at the label- “never mind, definitely not, but now I have to tell him that we’re pretending to be married.” She blew out a breath and heaved a shaky sigh. “Yeah. _That _should go over well...”

_Ulla quickly stalked down to the dungeons after their conversation without any detour or pause. Her dress swept behind her as she walked, low heels clicking ever so softly on the polished stone floors. Issak and Tob were at the far end, the shadowy end, and were sneering at the unconscious figure in the cage._

_“You said you had something to show me?” She asked crisply. Her eyes narrowed on the prisoner and a sharp, surprised growl escaped her throat when she saw who it was. Her nose quickly sniffed the air and she relaxed slightly, lip curling. After a few moments she turned to her sons, composed once more. “This was a very foolish thing for you to do.”_

_“Without _him_ around the Lady Rose will have no choice but to court one of us,” Issak replied coolly and succinctly. It was easy to see at the merest glance that he was overly-proud of his actions._

_“He may be a peasant, but the Lady Rose has claimed him as her mate,” Ulla growled warningly. Both her sons shrank in on themselves at her tone. “He smells of her, to be sure, but not intimately. Luckily for you, they have not mated... yet. But he is certainly, from her point of view her intended. You would do well not to meddle in the affairs of a Letoan without first _consulting me._”_

_“He’s seen us mother, he knows,” Tob whimpered. “What do we do now?” Their mother sighed and scrubbed tiredly at her face, collecting her thoughts. _

_“He will have to remain here,” she murmured thoughtfully. “And not be included in the hunt tomorrow. We can have it... arranged for him to be released in poached territory, near where we found them. They left something there, something I’ve promised to send our people to collect. I’m sure it can be... fixed, so that they find his corpse in their endeavor. It would solve both problems.” _

_“Who can we trust to release him?” Issak growled, glaring at the inconvenience that was the Doctor where he lay slumped in the cell. Ulla’s voice was cool and detached as she raised an eyebrow at them and walked back up the stairs, voice fading but still carrying down to them as she went._

_“It was _your_ master plan. The two of you shall clean up after yourselves.”_

_“Right,” Issak grunted, pulling open the cage and sneering disdainfully at his newest charge. “Let’s get this over with, Tob.”_

_“We can’t use the horses lest the servants give us away,” Tob pointed out with a frown. Issak rolled his eyes as he slung the Doctor over a shoulder with ease._

_“Then we walk.” _

_“Oh.” _

_None of the three ever took any note of the shadow moving in one of the side passages, and nor did the two brothers spot their tail as they left._

~§§~

Mags was busy getting ready to sleep when Rose tiptoed into her room and closed the door.

“We have a problem,” Mags said quickly before Rose could beat her to it. Rose, mouth already half open, abruptly clicked it shut and nodded as she sat on the edge of the bed and watched Mags finish her routine. “I now have _three _proposals in this castle. Issak, Tob... and Jaks.”

_“Jaks!?” _Rose exclaimed, surprised. “Why?”

“He said it would be purely platonic, but would allow me to stay at the castle without being stalked by his brothers.” The response to this pronouncement was a long groan of exasperation, a facepalm, and the flopping of one’s body backward into the center of the bed to stare blankly up at the ceiling. “My thoughts exactly. But male Wolves are- how shall I put this delicately...”

“You do know how I became a Wolf myself, right?” Rose retorted flatly. “Think I know well enough, thanks.” She huffed and straightened up again, hopping to her feet and lightly pacing about the room. Mags observed her with a simultaneous growing bemusement and smile; she was lighter than air, her cares and troubles temporarily gone, and there was a distinct besotted quality about her as well. 

“You and the Doctor... did you...”

“Finally realize we were both oblivious idiots and come to the conclusion we want to give a romantic spin on our platonic relationship a shot?” This was said with sparkling eyes and a wide smile. “Yeah. That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. See, Ulla may have been under the impression that he and I are... mated... and I... may have let her continue thinking that so that Issak and Tob would leave me alone...”

“And you wanted to alert me to that so that if someone makes mention of it I’ll play along,” Mags summarized, smirking. Rose shrugged, then nodded. “I’m really happy for you two. And immensely relieved. The tension was killing me.”

“We weren’t _that_ bad... were we?”

“I was exaggerating, but a little bit, yeah.” Rose bit her lip and Mags smiled. 

“Sorry.” 

“Oh, don’t be. It was as endearing as it was frustrating to see two people so... obliviously... piningly...”

“I get it, I get it.” She stood from her friend’s bed and walked toward the door. “Good night, Mags. See you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Rose.” The door _snicked _closed with a soft click of the latch and Mags swiftly crossed over to lock herself in, sighing in relief and slumping against the door. Should have known better than to leave it open with her hosts prowling about, really. She trusted Jaks and Tob, but Issak... 

Well. It was good to be careful.

When the Doctor awoke from a blow to the head it was to dried blood caking the bangs and eyebrow near his left temple, a throbbing pain in his skull, and an even more excruciating agony coursing through his barely-healed leg. He’d been tied at the wrists and ankles and then hung by his feet from a tall tree, hair falling down to sway little more than a couple of inches from the ground. 

The bluzzy- no, no, fizzy, uh, fuzzy... blurry? Bluzzy... uh... forms of what he knew to be as Issak and Tob were sauntering back the way they had come, upside down to him, and he groaned as the flipped image made his already fuggy- fuzzy, muggy? Whatever, head spin. He shut his eyes tight and grit his teeth, unable to focus enough to divert the healing energies into his body to handling his astoundingly minor concussion. 

“You do realize you just said all of those weird word mashes out loud, right?” An amused voice asked. The Doctor sighed; he could _hear _the smirk. 

“Are you going to stare there standing at me, or will you cut me down?” A few moments later Jaks was gently lowering him the rest of the way to the ground and severing his bindings, and he rubbed wearily at his temples as he willed some focus to find its way into his grasp. “Thank you.” 

“It’s a very long walk back to the castle, filled with poachers, and I can’t carry you,” Jaks replied worriedly. “I overheard my mother and brothers up to their usual schemes and followed the two idiots here.”

“W- ooh, ow, whatever for?” The Doctor asked, wincing as he felt at the bump at his left temple.

“For Rose. She was kind enough to try and understand me. Even more of an incentive is that she actually does, and I seem to have made a genuine friend that _doesn’t _work at the castle as a servant.”

“Barton?”

“Yes.” 

“Mm. Well, where are we?” 

“Your box is just over the hill,” Jaks said, pointing. The Doctor nodded and stood gingerly on his bad leg, limping toward the TARDIS and inserting the key. “Doctor, the poachers.”

“We won’t be going anywhere near them,” he replied, stepping through the doors. A few moments later his arm poked out and beckoned the young Wolf inside. “And I need to check something before we get back to the castle...”

“Something?” Jaks gaped at his surroundings and rubbed at his eyes, stunned. “Your technology is far superior to anything I have ever seen from the outlands before.” 

“Yes, well... there’s something up in your sky from the outlands that shouldn’t thee bere.”

“...huh?”

“_Be There._” The Doctor muttered a few choice - and equally scrambled - words in Gallifreyan before giving up and stalking with a limping gait toward the med bay. He returned several minutes later with a completely healed leg and forehead, his eyes far clearer and more alert. “That’s better. Now, to get a close look at that Dark Moon.”

“Why do you want to see my moon?” Jaks asked, head moving in the classic Terrier Head Tilt. The Doctor mirrored it as his eyes widened.

“_Your _moon!?” 

~§§~

“Good evening, my dear!” Mags bolted upright in an unfamiliar bed, her quills spiking like hackles as she confronted the unfamiliar voice. She relaxed and flopped back onto the bed only seconds later when she saw who had woken her.

“Lady Ulla,” she mumbled with a wide yawn, glancing out the window. “Oh. It’s quite dark.”

“Yes,” Ulla agreed, smiling. “It is almost twilight. Though, as you have not lived on Vulpana in a very long time, I should like to remind you that it is more than natural to sleep for the day on the night of a full moon, regardless of which Moon you change with. The Lady Rose has been up far longer than the rest of us.” She frowned slightly. “She seems... tense, about something. I would greatly appreciate it if you could soothe her nerves. It must be a daunting thing, to be considered the child of a goddess in front of so many people. The party shan’t make that any easier.”

“Oh, I doubt that’s what’s bugging her,” Mags replied with a fond shake of her head as she stood and stretched. “She’s probably anxious about the safety of her... mate... with all of the unfamiliar Wolves that will be arriving. She’s very protective of him.”

“I noticed,” Ulla said dryly, stiffening at the mention of the Doctor. She made an effort to brighten and relax. “Uh, will you be changing now, or at High Moon?”

“...High Moon, I think,” Mags said tactfully. It was hard to explain her reluctance to change amongst her own kind, but her answer seemed to please Ulla greatly.

“Very traditional,” she breathed. “And my boys will be delighted to go hunting with you.” She paused for a moment, considering. “And... Lady Rose?”

“From what I can gather, Letoans only change when they feel the need to,” Mags replied. “I highly doubt she’ll take part in the hunt tonight at all, really. She doesn’t like to hunt for sport.” She shrugged. “Me? I’m trying to reconnect to my heritage, and that means _all _of my heritage. Try anything once before deciding I don’t like it, me.”

“A confident attitude and a diplomatic position,” Ulla said approvingly. “Well, we’ll see the both of you in the Great Hall for refreshments and dancing as soon as you’re ready.”

“But I don’t have-“

“Taken care of, my dear. I’ve had the servants place a selection of ball gowns in your dressing room. Pick whichever you like best.”

“Um, what if- what if I were to try them all on, and we could decide together?” Mags asked self-consciously. Something in Ulla’s stance softened and she smiled genuinely. 

“You know, that sounds rather fun,” she agreed. “I- I always wanted a daughter...” 

Rose paced Barton’s clinic like a caged animal and Barton herself shrank back against the wall as she did so. 

“And you’re sure it was them?” Rose asked. Barton took a breath and nodded. 

“Yes. Lords Issak and Tob grabbed him as he was leaving.”

“And no one saw you? You’re not in any danger.”

“No, Lady Rose.”

“Barton, please. Just call me Rose. The formality is making me uncomfortable,” Rose sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and halting in the center of the room.

“You really love him, don’t you?” Barton asked softly, walking toward her. “It isn’t just a fun past-time for you, flirting with him.”

“Until last night we were just good friends who stupidly wanted more and didn’t think it was attainable,” Rose muttered ruefully, catching and then mirroring the amused smile Barton was giving her. 

“I told Lord Jaks what had happened and he said he would take care of it,” she said helpfully. Rose nodded.

“Then the best thing we can do is act like we’re none the wiser.” Her cheeks colored slightly and she coughed. “Barton? I need some help, picking out a gown for this evening... I uh, I don’t know the fashion of this world and what’s considered in and what’s not, and I’m... nervous.”

“I can definitely help you find a dress for the evening,” Barton chuckled. “Lead on.” 

After receiving encouraging tips and helpful suggestions, Rose finally settled on a dress she really liked. It was TARDIS blue, shimmering like silk but feeling far more comforting against her skin like cotton. The skirt was very slightly tulip-shaped with a form-fitting style that flared at the hem and fell to her ankles, the neckline high at her throat. It covered her chest and torso completely but left her back and arms bare, and Rose paired it with her running trainers because she felt it best to always be prepared. 

Rose met Mags on the steps, awaiting for the big to-do announcement by Lady Ulla as to their presence among the guests, and she smiled. 

“Cheer up Mags,” she teased. “Your dress is amazing.” And it was. Maroon, looking more Gothic than the Art Nouveau theme it seemed to be emulating, and quite frankly stunning when paired against Mags’ dark eyes and green quills. 

“So is yours,” Mags complimented shyly. They both sighed as Ulla called their names and stepped into the spotlight, ignoring the gasps from the crowd. “Hello, everyone!” 

The music started up just before things became awkward, and as soon as the attention was diverted Issak and Tob sprang on them.

“Lady Mags, you look-“ Tob cut himself off, coughed, and continued. “You look lovely.” 

“The moons are radiant tonight, but both of you outshine them all,” Issak added seductively. 

“I have a mate, thanks,” Rose retorted pointedly before Tob could start an argument with him. The younger of the two cut his gaze away guiltily, something Mags frowned at, but she accepted his bashfully-outstretched hand and let him lead her onto the dance floor. Issak’s gaze held steady on Rose.

“But we both know he _isn’t _your mate,” he said pointedly, smirking.

“Well, maybe I wouldn’t mind if he was someday. And we _also _both know what’s happened to him,” she growled softly. Issak inhaled sharply, pupils dilating and making his eyes almost entirely black.

“You _dare_ to-“

“I dare nothing, I _know_.” She cut off his angry comment before his voice could carry too far and smiled sweetly at him. It was not one that reached her eyes, and despite himself Issak shivered at it. She leaned in closer and whispered in his ear. “Just so you know, Issak, if there’s even a _scratch _on him that wasn’t there before this evening, I’ll rip you limb from limb and scatter your parts across the planet so that all carrion can feed equally upon your privileged backside. Understood?”

“Perfectly,” he rasped, swallowing as she backed away. The disturbingly predatory smile was still fixed in place as she held eye contact with him, and with a soft whimper he was the first to look away. He’d missed his chance to have the first dance with Mags and propriety in front of the other houses meant he had to be polite and let it run its course, and he’d severely underestimated Rose. 

As for Rose, she moved toward a shadowy alcove and leaned against the wall watching the festivities with an appraising eye. After a few moments she sighed, shoulders slumping. While she was glad Mags had seemed to find where she belonged, she still had no idea where it was _she _was meant to be. Jaks’ revelation about her people not having a planet to call home had stung, and as the party drew on she was acutely aware of a feeling she hadn’t had since leaving Earth. 

_Being alone amongst so many, and at that so many who were very much but not quite like her. _

She shivered slightly and wrapped her arms around herself. She wasn’t cold, but the pressure against her chest provided much-needed comfort at the present moment. Rose half-heartedly listened to the announcement about the hunt at high moon and followed the rest of the group to the front courtyard to inspect the prey, trailing behind Ulla, Issak, and Tob as Mags asked them questions of the age-old tradition. 

The scent and sound of people in the cages reached her long before it did Mags, and Rose fought down a bout of repulsed nausea as she picked up her pace just in time for Mags to realize what was going on. 

“You can’t do this,” she panted, distraught. “I won’t let you!”

“I’ll just have a word with my friend,” Rose said smoothly, tightly gripping Mags by the shoulders and steering her far from the group. Once they were sheltered in an alcove she rounded on her. 

“What are you doing!?” She hissed. “They hunt _people!_”

“It appears so,” Rose muttered. “But _think, _Mags. If you make too big of a fuss then you won’t be able to help them.” She began to pace the cramped alcove as she thought. “No, we need a subtle approach if we want to be successful...”

“Well, where’s the Doctor?” Mags asked impatiently. “He’d never stand for this sort of thing. We could use his help.” Her brow furrowed slightly. “Hang on. Wasn’t he supposed to accompany you to the ball? As your Plus One?”

“Issak and Tob, at the suggestion of their sweet dear old mum, dumped him in the forest with the poachers,” Rose muttered tersely. “Jaks saw what was what and went after him to get him out of that mess, but that was a while ago...” she bit her lip. “I’m worried, Mags.”

“You should be. That’s horrible of them! I- why??” Mags exclaimed, astounded.

“Because he presented an obstacle between the boys and me. It-“ Rose broke off, lifting her nose into the air and inhaling deeply. A wide, somewhat besotted smile stretched across her face and Mags chuckled. 

“Back, is he?”

“In the TARDIS.” She raised an eyebrow. “With Jaks.” The pair of them flinched as the cages of the prey sprung open and they watched with wide eyes as the people ran into the forests. Rose grabbed Mags’ hand and tugged her away from the festivities. “Come on.” 

They got little more than two corridors away, in a small little sitting area, before they spotted the TARDIS - _and _the two men they’d been looking for. The Doctor smiled as they rounded the corner, grunting as Rose flung herself into his arms and nearly carrying him off his feet with the force of the contact. 

“What happened while I was gone?” He asked, words muffled by her hair. Several long holes pierced the air and Jaks groaned.

“Oh, and there goes the hunt...” he muttered.

“They hunt _people!_” Mags spat, rounding on him. He regarded her calmly. 

“Yes, they do, as part of Vulpana’s justice system. And it’s a horrible practice that I would dearly love to see abolished, but to stop one would be tantamount to revolution, and much as I am heading in such a direction the time isn’t nearly right enough to affect such a risky venture.” 

“Well, it’s more than time for a revolution!” Mags protested, gesturing over at the Doctor and Rose with a hand. “The only time they show up somewhere is when they can best stir up trouble!”

“I’d take offense to that, but it’s worryingly accurate,” the Doctor sighed. 

“I still take offense,” Rose muttered, crossing his arms. Her head jerked abruptly to the side, toward the sound of the counting down for the hunt that was barely audible through the thick stone walls of the castle. “Something’s wrong.” 

“Then we should go and investigate. You know, do that thing that Mags so wonderfully suggested we specialize in,” the Doctor replied cheerfully, flashing a cheeky grin. It faded at the perplexed and uneasy expression on Rose’s face. “Serious?”

“I don’t-“ her pupils suddenly dilated and she inhaled deeply. “They’re gonna tear each other apart,” she growled, tearing off down the hallway. The others were left to chase after, Mags grumbling over having to pick up the skirts of her own dress. They were just in time to see the entire party of Wolves fall upon each other in a brutal display of fanged teeth and sharpened nails.

“They haven’t changed,” Jaks gasped, staring upward at the moon. “They change at high moon, for the hunt. It’s tradition. But they haven’t. Why-“ 

“Your dark moon,” the Doctor huffed. “As I said when I took the TARDIS into the upper atmosphere and showed you, upsetting the delicate balance of the other four _natural _moons is a big mistake. And I think it’s just come home to roost.” 

“Yeah, well...” Rose started, picking up her skirts and somehow managing to tie the dress into a pair of impromptu shorts. “We need to do something about it.”

“You’re the Letoan,” Jaks said with a sniff. “I’ve got some smoke and flare grenades but they won’t do much against that lot. All the good kit is in my laboratory.” 

“What-“

“I’ll explain later,” the Doctor sighed. “One thing at a time.” A stray Wolf lunged at them, snarling, and Mags punched her squarely on the nose. She retreated with a yelp and she shook out her fingers.

“No kidding.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I love where I’m going with this. This is what I’ve been waiting for all book, this story. Well, that and... oh, you’ll see 🤫
> 
> Also, some of you may be wondering why the Doctor was pretty much absent from the story. The reason is that, in the audio, Seven was gone for the last half of the second part and I think... maybe about the first half of the third part as well. So. There’s that. He came back far more quickly, because I’m changing things up.


	31. The Moons of Vulpana III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you all know what my mindset was when I was writing this chapter, twenty minutes after I published the previous one my father drove my mother up to the hospital to get admitted for an open ulcer sore on her leg. She’d been fighting it for a good two weeks, but there was a development and it really freaked us out because she’s a diabetic and the sore is uncomfortably near her foot. So, she got admitted for several days for intravenous antibiotics as there were FOUR different bacteria strains in the injury, and I was stress writing for literally all of this. I don’t think it should affect the quality per se, but the content may be a bit more acerbic or dismal than usual... it will also be shorter as a result.
> 
> And for those of you who will surely be wondering, she is doing much better now with such attentive and focused medical care that we could not provide at home.

“Well, this chaos certainly is something else!” Jaks shouted, scurrying up the wall slightly out of sheer desperation to evade the fangs of a distant relative and somehow launching himself onto the large chandelier hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the room. He lost a shoe for his efforts before he managed to haul himself out of reach, and he clung to the wrought iron monstrosity with wide eyes and a panting mouth.

“I’ve seen actual _wars _more civil than this!” The Doctor retorted, suddenly all-too aware of just how far he’d progressed with his Martial Arts training. It was one that specialized in evasion, in using an opponent’s strength against them. He neatly dodged a lunging attack, sticking his leg out, and the poor man tripped and went crashing out of a third story window. He leaned out slightly through the broken glass and breathed a sigh of relief when he heard a tremendous splash, calling down to his adversary in apology. “Sorry!” 

“Don’t _apologize,_ you daft-“ Mags gave up trying to finish her sentence and banged someone’s head against a nearby table. “Blimey, this is worse than a pub brawl!”

“Been in many of those, have you?” The Doctor let out a yelp and dove for cover as a harsh bark sounded in the room like a clap of thunder shook the windows and shattered their glass, sending shards everywhere. He risked raising his head above the overturned chair he was sheltering behind and abruptly stopped breathing, pupils widening with shock. 

Rose had shifted into her Wolf form and had jumped onto the long trestle table of the reception hall, stalking along it as a huntress fixated on her prey at the other end. Her honey gold fur was platinum and shining with its own light, pure energy rising like steam vapors from it and emitting a blistering wave of heat that he could feel even from his position on the floor. Her eyes burned bright gold and he pitied the poor soul that had gotten her attention enough to hold it. 

There was a hazy recollection of her appearing in such a way the previous evening, but he’d been hallucinating by that point from the bite he’d received and had written it off as imaginative fancy when he’d come to. But this...

This was no hallucination, and it opened up a plethora of questions he wanted to ask if they ever ran into a member of her species. He pulled his screwdriver from his pocket and did a quick scan to satisfy his curiosity, only becoming aware of the deathly silence around him when it whirred to life.

The entire room had gone entirely still, collectively holding its breath as she slowly moved forward and crouched on the end of the table, her ears back and fur standing on end. The glow was slowly fading as calm was restored to their surroundings, and all it took was for him to hear her familiar low whine to have him rushing to her side to see what all the fuss was about.

“Oh, no...” he whispered. “Jaks, you might want to get over here.” 

“Whatever for, Doctor?” Jaks asked, dropping ungracefully from the chandelier and landing in a heap on the floor. He let out a choked sound as he approached and dropped to one knee, extending a shaking hand toward his two brothers. “Issak, Tob!” His head shot up as he surveyed the carnage around him. “Mother! Mother, come quick!” 

The crowd parted for Lady Ulla as she limped toward them, clutching at her abdomen and panting hard. 

“Jaks, what’s wrong?” Her gaze settled on the Doctor and she let out a snarl. “_You._”

“Yes, _me_,” he retorted, pointedly running his fingers through the fur by Rose’s ears in a soothing gesture as she snarled at the elder woman. Ulla recoiled and stepped in a wide arc around her, gasping when she saw her sons. 

“My boys,” she whispered brokenly. “My beautiful sons...” The Doctor blinked when Rose gently bit into the sleeve of his coat and tugged, and he followed her out of the decimated room with rampant curiosity. They came to a stop in a tiny garden and he blinked as she shifted, gaping slightly. 

...Was it that he was simply paying more attention after the display indoors, or did her hair seem to shine more brightly under the stars?

“Doctor?” Rose called, and he shook himself slightly to refocus. From the look on her face it wasn’t the first time she’d said his name.

“Sorry. What is it?”

“Ulla.” She growled the name out, pacing the short strip of grass. “She reeks of blood.”

“Well, it _was _quite a big fight Rose-“

“I’m empathic, remember? And she was upset her sons were hurt, but she wasn’t surprised. There was remorse, but not regret.” The Doctor blinked, processing that tidbit.

“Are you saying _she mauled them? _Her own children??” 

“I don’t know why, but I think...” Rose stopped pacing and stood before him, biting her lip before nodding. “I can’t wait to get out of here, Doctor.” 

“Any particular reason?” He asked softly, resisting the instinctive urge to reach out and touch her bare arms with his fingers by shoving them into his pockets. He _really _needed to have a chat with her about his telepathic relationship requirements. 

“Reminds me too much of- of...” Rose bit her lip again and sighed, stepping forward and pressing her cheek against his neck. He inhaled sharply at the overwhelming feeling of _loneliness _he received from the simple skin contact and wrapped his arms around her torso tightly, resting his chin on the top of her head. 

“This is like Brazil all over again for you, isn’t it?” He sighed. She said nothing, just burrowed deeper into his jumper. “Oh, Rose. We’ll leave as soon as we’ve sorted out this mess. Wouldn’t do to leave Mags on her own with this lot, would it?” That got a soft chuckle out of her and she shook her head, agreeing. “No. Now, let’s carry on and get this all over with shall we?”

They walked hand in hand into the hallways as Mags and Jaks ran up to them.

“How are your brothers?” The Doctor asked. Jaks’ lip curled slightly as he sighed. 

“Issak is dead, and Tob is critical,” he murmured. “Barton is attending to him. She said it was close, that if the fighting hadn’t stopped when it did he would have died as well.” He swallowed. “He might still. Too early to say.”

“And your mother?”

“She is... ill. Very ill. But she refuses to let anyone tend to her injuries.” Jaks shifted uneasily on his feet. “But enough of that. Doctor, I said I would show you my laboratory and just what it is I’ve been trying to do with my artificial moon.”

“...Yeah, you _said _you’d explain that,” Mags muttered, flashing him a suspicious look. He shrugged.

“If you’ll just follow me.” He led them to his chambers and through a hidden entrance into a laboratory higher in the tower, a tower that had been adapted to serve also as an observatory. The contrast was remarkable; rough-hewn furniture was adorned with half-finished projects made of stainless steel and electronic circuitry intermixed with chemistry experiments and the odd space-age surveillance toy.

“Jaks, this is...”

“That’s what I was looking for,” the Doctor muttered, cutting off Mags’ breathless commentary. He darted over to what was obviously a control station and sat himself down in the chair as he read out the diagnostics. “Ooh. Jaks, this is _superb_. Flawless execution of adding a fifth celestial body into the gravitational orbit of Vulpana. Your main flaw was not properly understanding the biology of your people before launching it.” He sniffed. “Still, I’m impressed. Half of this technology had to have come from the Outlands, as you call them. What was it, bartering with pilots of cargo vessels who had touched down with engine trouble?”

“I was curious as a cub, and they let me help them fix their ships,” Jaks explained. Their was a consistent note of underlying bitterness in his tone as he spoke. “I figured that, as an Omega that can barely manage to acquire a set of fangs during high moon, I needed to focus on strength of the mind over strength of the body. I studied anything I could get my hands on, and when I was older I reached out to other like-minded Omegas from the other houses. Dr. Barton wants to raise herself to a higher level, and with her and her colleagues’ knowledge of Vulpanan biology I got an idea.”

“You wanted to create a fifth moon for those left out and left behind,” Rose said sympathetically. “So that everyone could change with the moons.”

“Exactly.”

“But it’s in the wrong spot,” the Doctor pointed out, gesturing to the screen. He reached into his pockets and pulled out his glasses, halfway slipping them on his nose before Rose sighed wistfully.

“Oh, the brainy specs,” she murmured, blushing. He turned in his seat and raised an eyebrow - which of course was _over _the specs and only made her blush worse - and she stuttered to explain. “You don’t actually need them, you just think they make you look clever.”

“And do they?” He asked, a cheeky smile forming on his lips.

“Oh yeah. And um, I think clever’s the new sexy.”

“And you’re _sure _that you haven’t yet mated?” Jaks asked incredulously while Mags dropped her head into the palm of her hand and groaned. 

“Pretty sure,” the Doctor said with a smile before frowning. “Wait, what do you mean, ‘haven’t _yet?’ _Where does the _yet _come in to-“

“So what happens if the moon isn’t removed from the equation, or at least moved to a spot where the equation can function like it’s supposed to?” Rose said quickly, clearing her throat in embarrassment at the topic of conversation. The Doctor scratched at his head, ruffling his hair. 

“Ah. Well. What we saw in the reception hall is only the start of this planet’s troubles if we can’t get this thing working properly...” he frowned, then smiled and turned in his chair to look directly at Mags and Jaks. The former of the two was smiling knowingly, the latter smiling in bemusement but content to be a part of the group. 

“Back to the TARDIS so we can get scanned?” Mags asked.

“Yes. But if we could get Barton, the whole spectrum so to say, then this would be much easier.”

“She won’t leave Tob.”

“Well, then he can come along,” Rose suggested. “We could heal him faster onboard anyway.”

“I’ll carry him,” Mags decided. She glanced down at her apparel and grimaced. “I’d like to get into a different change of clothes anyway.” 

“Is that where you went, when you had your concussion and leg injury?” Jaks asked innocently, ignoring the Doctor’s ‘kill’ gesture as Rose swung around and narrowed her gaze on him. 

“...Mags, you and the Doctor get Barton and Tob. I’ll get started on the tests for Jaks,” Rose murmured. She poked the Doctor in the chest. “And don’t think we won’t be discussing you getting a concussion, mister. I’ve got some people to smack around if that’s the case.” 

“There will be no violence on my behalf,” he huffed. Mags snorted.

“Too late for that. Pretty sure there’s some poachers with huge chunks of fur missing.” 

“...Yes, well. Getting eaten is a different matter entirely. That’s defense rather than revenge.”

“In my defense, I want to,” Rose retorted, crossing her arms and leaning forward to press a quick kiss to his lips before backing away and heading out the door. “I care too much about you to let something like that slide.” 

“...Oh,” the Doctor murmured, staring after her with wide eyes. “Well. In that case...”

“Moons, the pair of you are hopeless,” Mags sighed in fond exasperation before following her friend out of the room. 

It was but a few minutes for the pair of them to reach the infirmary where Barton was tending to Tob, and after explaining what it was they were asking for she agreed. Between Mags and herself maneuvering Tob’s stretcher, the Doctor was able to walk ahead on the lookout for unwelcome individuals on the way back to the TARDIS. 

To her credit, Barton barely paused to take in the dimensional transcendentalism due to the focus she gave to her patient and merely continued on following the Doctor to the med bay. Jaks was rolling down his sleeve as they entered and placed Tob upon one of the cots, and habitually the Doctor activated the full body scanner on his patient while Mags drew a sample from Barton. Rose was already running Jaks’ and the quiet efficiency with which they all worked was commendable. 

After a little while Rose showed their conscious guests to the wardrobe room and the Doctor sighed, looking over the results with a frown. He felt like the solution was staring him in the face, but it was a pattern he just couldn’t spot, and with a groan he dropped the papers on the nearest hard surface and scrubbed his hand down his face. 

It was right there. He just needed the key to crack the cipher. Because, if he could work this the way he suspected he might be able to, then there was a chance that he could give the peasant class the same rights as their superiors. The accompanying problem to that being that it wasn’t necessarily the right issue. There was the problem of poachers, and how such a strata of social structure could exist when Vulpanans were so concerned about blood purity and allowing such ‘noble blood’ to roam with the opinion of them being mongrels astounded him. 

“Penny for ‘em,” Rose whispered, wrapping pink sweatshirt-clad arms around his chest and resting her chin on his right shoulder to peer at the data. 

“Not worth that much, but there’s a lot of it,” he muttered.

“Ah. Inflation.” The response she received was a slight snort of laughter at the joke and the Doctor relaxed a touch into her embrace. 

“I’m not sure I can make the fifth moon work the way they want, and if it does, this doesn’t necessarily mean that it’ll make the peasant class any more prosperous,” he explained.

“It would just cause problems, Doctor,” Rose said sympathetically. “On Earth, there’s this thing called ‘old money’ and ‘new money,’ and for some reason people with old money look down on people with new money because they didn’t inherit it. And I’ve never understood that. I mean, how do they think their ancestors got _their _money? They had to amass it. Like the people with new money. It’s all elitist, and it’s not actually about the money at all. It’s about keeping oneself above and somehow better than everyone else.”

“So if the current houses of the four natural moons are ‘old money’ in this scenario, the addition of a fifth moon would produce a ‘new money’ category and nothing would change,” the Doctor reasoned. Rose nodded. “I thought as much, though it’s good to hear someone else say it aloud.” He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “Well, that makes things very much easier then. We need to destroy that artificial moon to restore the natural balance of the planet.”

“Why did it affect them to begin with though?” Rose asked, nose scrunched slightly as she looked at the biological puzzle before them. 

“I think it has everything to do with the bodies’ natural circadian rhythms,” he explained. “Four moons in the sky means four different gravitational influences upon the planet.” He pointed at the data before them. “Mags and Tob have a specific mineral proficiency in their DNA structure that is a natural occurrence for them. In contrast, Jaks and Barton have a deficiency. Now, this analogy is grossly incompetent for what I’m getting at, but for humans all blood types have positive and negative addendums to them yes?”

“...Yeah...” 

“So, think of Mags and Tob as Blood Type 2 Positive, and Jaks and Tob as Blood Type 2 Negative. Again, not the best example, but it somewhat gets my point across. Now, I believe that the entire Alpha, Beta, Omega, and Peasant structure and the dominance is directly tied to the amount of the mineral and the retention of it in the bloodstream. Vulpana is greatly known as being one of the most mineral-rich planets in the region and it sits almost directly at the center of its galaxy.” He frowned and picked up the sheets of data again with a sigh, humming softly in appreciation as Rose ran her fingers through his hair. “What I _don’t_ understand is why some Wolves are stronger under one moon than another, regardless of the positive or negative of their DNA.”

“Well, minerals right?” Rose asked leadingly, gently tugging on his arm. Curious, he followed her to the console room. 

“Yes...?” 

“I bet that, if you did a scan of all four moons, you’d find that Blood Type 2 and the mineral proficiency or deficiency matches the second moon, and Blood Type 1 the first moon, and so on.”

“Rose... that’s brilliant.” The Doctor hummed. “But how could the mineral have gotten into their systems to affect them in that way?” 

Rose bit her lip and told him what Jaks had said about Letoans, and what Ulla had added on to that information with. He merely stared at her with wide eyes as she spoke and at the end he huffed out a slightly overwhelmed breath, tugging gently on his hair as he paced around the console deep in thought.

“All Wolves descend from Letoans, I suppose that makes some sense if the virus is as semi-sentient as stories claim,” he reasoned. It sounded very much as if he were trying to convince himself rather than her. “We’ve seen it in action with Stubbe and the Brazil Incident, certainly. But even _if _the first settlers of the planet were Letoan, we’re back to the reason of why and how the minerals got into their blood. And why some retain it better than others.”

“I mean, you said Vulpana was rich in mineral deposits yeah?” Rose offered with a shrug. “And that the planet is affected by insanely strong magnetic disturbances due to having four moons close by.”

“Yes. You’d be all right staying on this planet for an extended period of time, but I would become very ill within a matter of weeks from trying to adjust to it all,” the Doctor confirmed. His head tilted slightly to the side as he regarded her. “Why? What are you getting at?”

“Well, the settlers might have drunk from rivers in certain areas rich in specific minerals,” Rose suggested. “And the minerals are the same as the corresponding moons. Since rivers don’t keep consistent levels of silt in them, it stands to reason that through natural selection or whatever those that got a higher dose of the stuff were stronger. And, with the virus being as adaptive as people say it is, it took only a few generations for the new order to emerge. And boom. Entire new emergent species.”

“...Never, ever, _ever _let someone tell you you’re stupid because you didn’t get your A Levels,” the Doctor murmured appreciatively as he pressed a hard kiss against her forehead and then sprang away to dash about the console. Rose giggled in response.

“Thanks. So what’re you doin’ now?”

“Working to confirm your theory by scanning the main stronghold grounds of all four packs and matching them up with the mineral deposits and mineral compositions of the four moons, and then cross-referencing that with the mineral found in our graciously-willing sample group’s blood. And if your theory holds true, then maybe all the peasant class and Omegas need to be as Wolfish as their so-called betters are a steady dose of gummy vitamins.”

“You didn’t just-“ he paused in his work to toss a cheeky grin at her and she dissolved into a fit of badly-suppressed giggles in response. “Okay, you. I see how it is.” 

They both looked up to see Mags leading Barton and Jaks into the console room and Rose quietly explained to them the theory they were testing, which naturally led to Jaks and the Doctor discussing a way to safely get rid of the artificial moon. By the time the results were in, they’d developed a working plan. With the confirmation of the TARDIS’ scanner that their theory was indeed correct, they hashed out the finer details. Barton vowed to stay with Tob while he healed so that, when he woke up, he would see a familiar face and not panic. 

On that note, the other four prepared to head back to Jaks’ observatory/laboratory to shut the project down. However, upon exiting the TARDIS, they were immediately met with an unexpected problem...

“Such an interesting box you have, Lady Rose,” Ulla remarked with a smirk as her guards surrounded them. “Now, I think you’ve interrupted the goings-on of my planet far too much recently. Ever since you arrived, things have been handed over to chaos. And I will not stand for it.” She flicked a lazy wrist and several spears were pointed in her direction. Mags and Jaks were yanked out of the threatening circle and Rose lunged forward in response, yelping when one of the spear points grazed her arm. She crumpled against the Doctor, clutching her arm against her chest as tears streamed down her face.

“What did you _do _to her!?” The Doctor exclaimed, cradling her loosely as he glared at Ulla, who shrugged. 

“The spears are coated in silver. As are the bars of our cells. You may have noticed that all of my security wear protective gauntlets. Well, that’s entirely why.”

“And we’re to be taken to your dungeon are we? Hmm? What about Mags and Jaks?”

“Well, of course they’re to be free.” Ulla smirked. “We have a wedding to plan, after all.” She ignored both her son and - apparently - daughter-in-law-to-be as she turned on her heel and threw a parting shot over her shoulder. “Take the Lady Rose and her serf to their cell.”

“Yes, Lady Ulla.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this part of the story diverged greatly from the original audio, whereas the previous two were close to form. Jaks’ role is almost entirely different in my version though his personality is much the same (and that’s as much as I’ll say because I firmly believe this is one of the best Seventh Doctor Audios I’ve ever had the privilege of listening to and encourage others to enjoy the original), and what went down between Issak, Tob, the Doctor, and Ulla is also greatly different. 
> 
> I’m also aware this chapter is a bit shorter than usual (especially for a Big Finish Audio) but to be quite honest there wasn’t a whole lot going on in the audio itself... it was all dialogue, all the time, and much of it was cut out by my plot change, so I’m really just setting the stage here for part four in much the same way the original audio did. Of course, I can condense scenes with description of the visual rather than having to have the characters subtly describe what’s going on, and that saves time and word count... Ah well. I’ve had a very stressful two weeks, and I wrote this under a lot of stress. Of course it’ll be shorter. 
> 
> BTW, none of that explanation for the reason as to why Vulpanans are the way they are was ever talked about in the audio. There was an extremely vague reference made to the moons and the people being “kin” and I ran a triathlon with it, but c’est la vie. It was entirely off the cuff rambling and I’m actually very satisfied with it so... carpe diem I guess.


	32. The Moons of Vulpana IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ve lived long enough to know that falling leads to breaking and breaking can lead to dying but falling can be the best feeling.”
> 
> -Ivy R. Cabading

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PART 4 OF 4
> 
> I didn’t want to accidentally miss someone by doing this individually so I’m going to make a blanket statement instead, but thanks everyone for all the kind comments pertaining to my mother. I really do have some of the nicest readers and I want you to know that I value and appreciate that. Thanks a lot, guys. She was in the hospital for two full days and has quite a few appointments ahead, but apparently she had a rare infection and that was why they had so much trouble figuring out how to help her. She’s back home with a strict wound care regimen and a bag full of giant antibiotic pills, but she’ll be okay. 
> 
> Again, thanks for the kindness. You guys really are the best.

“Sisters, brothers, cousins, friends!” Ulla’s voice rose high above the incessant babble of what was left of their guests. “Of all packs, of all houses of the moons. We welcome you to castle Benger!” All of us are trying to come to terms with the devastating events. In these unprecedented times, we look to strong leadership, to heal our society. I call on Jaks, my one surviving son, to bring us together and show us the way forward!” 

Jaks took a deep breath as thunderous applause met his mother’s words and hesitated in the shadows of the archway he and Mags were standing in. He looked to her and ducked his head.

“I suppose there’s nothing for it, then.”

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed that you’ll be a convincing actor,” Mags whispered encouragingly, going through an exaggerated motion of showing him said crossed fingers. 

“Then I’ll keep mine crossed for _you_,” he muttered. “She’ll be after you next.” He turned toward the masses and, taking a deep breath for courage, stepped out into the limelight to address the crowd. “My fellow purebloods! I have no words to express the depth of my sorrow at the losses that have affected _all _our houses. It has always been said that _we Vulpanans _have only one stage in our grieving process. That stage is known, as _revenge!_” 

Mags was pretty sure she was the only one who saw him shove a trembling hand into his pocket as he steeled himself to continue while raucous applause exploded from the crowd.

“Brothers and sisters, how can we avenge this when we are both the victims and the aggressors? We are all guilty! Guilty, by our very nature. For too long, we have prized _strength _and _aggression _over all other qualities. We have made no efforts to resist the urge to turn into mindless beasts. And we have paid the price. We have no friends, no trading partners among the other planets. And now we have lost the brightest and the best of our generation! Brothers and sisters, we have a choice to make! Do we continue to sacrifice everything on the altar of tradition, or do we change things for the better? 

“I call for an ending to the violence and bloodshed!” Jaks continued, ignoring the ill-tempered whispers of the crowd. “The House of the Second Moon will hunt no more. And I call upon _you, _of the First, Third, and Fourth Houses, to follow us! We will show the galaxy that Vulpana is _fit_ to take its place in the modern world.” 

“Who cares about the modern world?” Someone shouted.

“Let me show you someone who does!” Jaks countered, holding out his hand. Mags’ fingers slipped into his and they clung tightly to one another in front of the others. “Lady Mags. A pureblood, and a friend of an Alpha Luna Letoan. She has traveled extensively in the outside world and has been blessed for it by a daughter of the High Goddess. And yesterday, when the rest of you were _slaying your kin_, she and I kept our heads in the midst of the fight long before the interruption of the Lady Rose.”

“It’s true,” Ulla barked as angry shouting started up. “My son and Lady Mags were the only ones able to resist the madness.” A satisfied smile broke over her face and Jaks sighed ever so softly. “And in the midst of this tragedy, be assured that my son will have such a strong mate in Mags standing by his side to rule. They are to be married tomorrow!”

“Joy,” Jaks and Mags muttered under their breaths, blinking and exchanging a glance of surprise as they heard one another. 

“I may have inherited my position under the most terrible of circumstances, but I have shown that even an _Omega _can win the hardest battle of all, by defeating my own animal side!” Jaks said loudly, raising his and Mags’ clasped hands as he did so. “And we will show the rest of you how to do so, together!” 

“We cannot change who we are,” someone protested. 

“We must evolve, or face extinction!” Jaks snapped, true conviction finally entering his voice. “Do you not see this? Without unity, we shall be destroyed from within! And it will only be a matter of time before those of the Outlands take advantage. Isn’t that right, Mags?”

“More than you know,” Mags whispered, thinking of the world she had been born into and swallowing. She tightened her grip on his hand and raised her voice. “We will face our future together, or die! We are _Vulpanan! _This is _our _home, and it will not fall to others!”

She and Jaks made a quick exit as the crowd erupted into cheers and were met by Ulla a few moments later. Complexion pale from her injury, the blush of excitement stained her pallor all the more prominently. 

“Well, that went rather well I think,” she said with a self-satisfied smirk. “Just remember that I have leverage, you two, and no harm will come to the Doctor or the Lady Rose.”

“I hate her,” Mags growled as they watched her saunter down the hall.

“She’s... certainly a piece of work,” Jaks sighed, shoulders slumping. “Well, I suppose we should plan the small amount of our wedding that she’ll allow us to...” 

“I refuse to wear a dress.”

“And I a suit.” There was a short moment of contemplation before Jaks smirked. “Maybe _I _should wear your dress, and you wear my suit. Just to make her as angry as possible.”

“Sounds like a plan, but then she’ll hurt our friends.”

“I trust Barton to rescue them. We could, but there’s the issue of the pair of us being watched after by every spy and busybody that ever did exist on the planet.” 

“She’d better do something quickly, then.”

“Agreed.”

~§§~

“Feeling better?” The Doctor murmured, gently stroking his fingers through Rose’s tangled hair. They were sitting in a jail cell - or rather, he was sitting with his back against the wall and she was lying on the floor with her head in his lap - and in the dim light of a windowless basement lit by a single wall candelabra it was all but impossible to see. Rose whimpered and clutched her arm to her chest and he sighed. “Let me see the burn, Rose.”

“Not much you can do about it so why bother?” 

“I have my screwdriver, and just last week I added a dermal regeneration setting,” he offered. “I can heal that burn of yours with a snap of my fingers.” He frowned. “Though that’s not strictly true, as I need my fingers to operate my screwdriver.”

“What about the fingers messin’ about with my hair?” She sighed drowsily. 

“Well, I need those to mess about with your hair.”

“Cheek.” 

“I prefer to think of it as pragmatic. But, all joking aside. Will you let me have a look?”

“Ooh... don’t see why not,” Rose huffed, moving into a sitting position and yawning as she held out the torn sleeve of her hoodie to him. The Doctor deftly parted the split and inspected the injury with a hum of curiosity, taking out the sonic and aiming it over the wound. She whimpered as it repaired the damage only to let out a sigh of relief when it was over. He pocketed the handy little multi-tool and leaned down to press a gentle kiss to the spot, eyes never once leaving hers as he did so. 

“All better,” he whispered. 

“Nearly,” Rose murmured in response, licking her thumb and running it over a cut on his cheek to clean the dried blood from it. “There.” He shivered as the action skated on the fringe of his temple and her eyes narrowed slightly. Sitting back, she made a point of arranging herself in a perfect cross-legged position and folded her hands primly in her lap. Her spine was admirably straight and curved in the natural bend of the body, allowing her shoulders to be thrown back confidently with head held high as she leveled a stare at him.

“So, Doctor. I was thinking, to pass the time, that we play a game. ‘Two lies and a truth.’” The Doctor frowned, head tilting slightly as he tried to figure out the rules.

“I’m afraid that, aside from thinking it sounds similar to ‘two truths and a lie,’ I have no idea what that is,” he admitted. Rose arched an eyebrow.

“We play it on an unfortunately-frequent basis,” she countered. “It goes like this: I guess two lies you’ll tell me when I ask you a question, and then you tell me the truth. Easy.”

“Rose-“

“What’s wrong, Doctor? You’ve been very anti-touch for about a month, and yet you can’t seem to keep reaching for my hand or stealing a cuddle in the library.” Her head tilted ever so slightly to match the angle of his own. “That was my question. Here’s the first lie. Ready? Here I go. 

“‘Nothing’s the matter, Rose. You’re imagining things. There isn’t anything wrong, and so there’s nothing to concern yourself with.’ Now, on to lie number two.

“‘I’ve always been anti-touch and bad at it, Rose. It’s just that you’re noticing now because we’re pursuing a romantic relationship.’ Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, you can get straight to the truth. What’s going on?”

“Touch telepath,” the Doctor sighed, shoulders slumping. “I was going to wait to have this conversation in the TARDIS after we’d left, and I certainly didn’t want to talk about something this... _intimate... _in a prison cell, but... I suppose I might as well, not got anything better to do.” He shifted into a more comfortable sitting position and scooted closer to Rose so that their knees touched and took her hands in his, allowing his mind to immediately and eagerly surge forward to make an empathic bond rather than trying to hold it back. Rose gasped in surprise as she felt his consciousness collide with hers and fail to find a niche to slot into, wincing when she heard him hiss in pain.

“Doctor... what was that?” She asked cautiously. The Doctor swallowed and took a shaky breath. 

“That, Rose, is the reason I’ve been trying to limit skin-on-skin contact recently. Ever since I became aware of my feelings towards you, I... my species instinctively creates telepathic bonds between its members, and before the Time Lords it was a very common practice that has since fallen into sore disuse. Romantic couples used to declare their intent to court in their communities by forming empathic bonds, allowing them to easily read one another’s emotional states and have a transparency in their communication with one another. It lessened misunderstandings and strengthened the relationships. 

“They could be easily broken, and were no more binding than the title of ‘significant other’ like humans have. If a couple were to decide to wed, they would strengthen the bond with a semi-permanent mind-link that allowed the sharing of memories and thoughts. It was limited by distance and could be abolished, though doing so would be very painful for both active participants. A full marriage bond was unbreakable and quite literally ‘till death do you part,’ and it wasn’t _sharing _with the other person so much as inhabiting the same mind space. Two minds, one telepathic presence.”

“And your instincts wanted you to form an empathic bond,” Rose summarized, stroking a thumb lazily along the back of one of his hands. She bit her lip. “I felt, just now... we aren’t compatible. My mind may be shielded, but it’s wide open to receive any and _all _empathic signatures. Yours is exclusive, and they don’t connect right.”

“It hurts,” the Doctor admitted. “And I like being with you, but finding an alternative to satisfy that empathic compulsion will require more tactile stimulus. As a touch telepath, I can read your emotions when we touch but not your thoughts without connection to the temple. Even the barest handhold...” he let out a wistful breath. “I wanted to explain it all instead of just assuming, and now that we’re trying to pursue a romantic relationship, I’ve spent much of this Vulpanan outing trying to figure out how to broach the topic.” He huffed in exasperation. “Something which you did rather spectacularly _for me, _might I add.” 

“Not sorry,” Rose retorted with a soft smile. It faded into an expression of thought before she hesitantly looked up and met his eye. “Keep trying, Doctor. Don’t hold back. When your instincts want to connect, let them try.” 

He blinked.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I told you what Jaks said about my species. How adaptive it is. Maybe, if you’re persistent, I’ll adapt to better connect to you.” His eyes widened as he leaned slightly forward toward her, mouth ever so vaguely open in quiet awe as he beheld her. “I know it would hurt, but-“

A finger to her lips halted the beginnings of a ramble as the Doctor chastely kissed her on the temple, and she felt that same slippery skating sensation as he tried and failed to connect. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever know what it was that I did to deserve someone as willing and understanding as you,” he breathed, the soft puff of hot air ghosting against her ear. She shivered.

“Or me you, what with you being so patient and willing to let me sort myself out before I let anyone in,” she whispered. Her words tickled his cheek where her lips brushed and he sighed in contentment. 

Rose cuddled against his chest as he leaned back against the wall, her head resting at the join of neck and shoulder, and he rested his chin in her hair as he curled his arms around her and gently ran his fingers in a repetitive motion between her shoulder blades. 

“We’d better start planning on stopping Ulla,” she said after a few moments of peaceful silence.

“Mm. I expect we need to figure out how to escape first,” the Doctor replied with false cheer. He let out an_ ‘oof’ _as she elbowed him in the ribs. “I deserved that.” 

~§§~

_Despite being told she had free reign of the ship, Dr. Barton made a point of going no further from the med bay than the galley to fix herself a glass of water and a small sandwich made of bread, cheese, and some strange Outlands meat called ‘pastrami.’ It wasn’t half bad. _

_After fixing her meal, she returned to tend to her patient and browse through the ship’s medical databanks. Rose had set it up for her so that she could glean whatever knowledge she could, even being so thoughtful as to move to a section that fell in line with the limits of her technological status. The entire thing was extremely enlightening, and Barton made the tactical decision to write down notes on particular fields of interest as she skimmed the documents. Maybe they’d leave her with hard copies to peruse later if she was lucky._

_A groan and the rustle of sheets sounded and she turned to see Tob blearily coming to, eyes widening in panic at an unfamiliar environment. She raced over and pinned him to the bed by the shoulders; he struggled weakly before giving up, too tired from injury to fight long. Their faces were so close the tips of their noses were touching, and Tob’s pupils blew wide as he inhaled her scent._

_“You bested me,” he whispered, voice deep and husky. Barton sighed. _

_“You’re injured, it wasn’t all that difficult,” she huffed. A note of bitterness made its way into the conversation. “No other possibility could see a peasant pinning a pureblood Alpha.” _

_They stared at each other for a few moments, hormones and pheromones thick in the air, before both acted on their instincts and tried to snog each other to kingdom come. Clear heads had never been very popular on Vulpana to begin with, anyway._

~§§~

The Doctor winced at another unsuccessful bonding and sighed, lightly holding Rose up and scooting our from under her cuddly embrace as he rose to his feet and paced their cell.

“Nothing?” She asked sympathetically.

“Except a headache,” he muttered, vigorously massaging his temples. 

“Yeah, join the club,” Rose sighed, tiredly leaning her head against the wall. “So. Ulla.”

“Simply escaping should make it rather simple to break off the wedding before Jaks and Mags have to file for an annulment.” He puffed out a thoughtful breath and rocked on his heels. “Without her leverage, Ulla can’t force them to go through with the ceremony.” 

“That still leaves the problem of how we convince an entire group of Wolves that she’s a psycho and needs to be removed from a position of power.” 

“True.”

“I challenge her,” a male voice said unexpectedly from the top of the stairs. They both turned sharply at the sound to see a _very _disheveled Barton accompany a limping but lively Tob down the stairs. 

“Dr. Barton, glad to see your patient up and about,” the Doctor commented nervously, eyes wide as he took in her tussled hair, smeared lipstick, and the prominent hickey on her neck. “You’re looking quite ah...”

“Well-snogged,” Rose finished for him, snickering slightly as she came up beside him and nudged his shoulder. He stammered out a small protest and she leaned up on her toes to whisper into his ear. “Prude.”

“Hey!” He exclaimed, though she ignored him. 

“We’re mated,” Barton said unabashedly, giggling as Tob snuffled into her neck and wrapped a possessive arm around her.

“Well, that took no time at all,” Rose said, swallowing. The Doctor just blinked, wisely deciding that for once in his life it would be better to play the mute. 

“We just have to hold a ceremony for pomp and circumstance, but according to Vulpanan custom we’re married,” Tob said proudly. He straightened to look at them. “As for my mother. Barton told me what happened to Issak, and what is currently happening with Jaks and the Lady Mags.”

“Oh, and you’re comfortable with an Omega assuming the seat of authority in your house are you?” 

“Of course not. But Mags is an Alpha female, and our society is matriarchal. The males fight, the females handle the politics. It works well that way. As we are aggressive in body, they are just as aggressive in spirit. Sharp tongues can win more battles than sharp claws.”

“I’m not skilled in politics,” Barton said honestly. “So for Mags to assume the role with Jaks at her side, guiding her through the hurdles, it makes sense. He always did well in the cerebral realm.”

“And I’m sure he’d have no trouble in handing the physical affairs over to you,” Rose pointed out observantly. 

“Does it matter?” Tob asked with a shrug. “I shouldn’t think you’d be all that concerned with the management affairs of my house.” 

“I’m not. However...”

“Oh, I love the way you think,” the Doctor breathed, a wide beaming smile lighting up his face as he shoved his hands in his pockets. 

“Love the way I think, or love me?” Rose retorted with a cheeky tongue-touched smile. His expression softened as he gazed at her and she hummed happily, turning toward their rescuers as Barton carefully opened the cell and avoided the silver coating on the bars. “Before you ask, he’s excited because I’ve got an idea to buy us some time. If _you _show up at the wedding and challenge Jaks’ claim to inheriting the position of leader on the grounds of being the stronger, then _we _can disable Jaks’ moon before it causes any more serious damage.”

“Oh, oh! I like this plan!” Tob exclaimed happily. If he’d had a tail, it would be wagging. 

“Of course you do,” Barton chuckled. “It’s _family drama._”

“So you _were _listening to the goings-on upstairs when you pretended you didn’t.”

“I’ll only admit to that if _you _admit you’ve always had eyes for me and never acted on it.”

“Hey!” Rose hissed, catching their attention. Her words were harsh while her eyes sparkled with laughter, hands coming up to cover the Doctor’s ears. “Watch it with the bedroom banter. There are innocents present!” 

“Oh ha ha,” the Doctor grumbled, hissing as her fingers accidentally skated over his temples when he extricated himself from her grasp. He eyed Barton over critically for a few moments and then smiled. “And I think we have a role for you as well. That is, if you’re any good as an actress...” 

~§§~

“Mother!” Jaks exclaimed on a long drawl as Ulla wove her way through the crowd with a very old woman behind her. “I was beginning to hope you wouldn’t arrive.”

“Every ceremony needs a priestess,” Ulla retorted with a smile, ignoring the snide comment. She gestured to the ancient woman and Jaks sighed. 

“Hopefully a heart attack will cancel the wedding,” he muttered, taking in her appearance. “It could be the only benefit to having one so ancient...” 

“Start the music!” Ulla called, and the band sprang into life. Mags appeared around the corner wearing a white gown with a long train and she smiled. “Here comes the bride. Isn’t she _exquisite?_”

“If this wedding were either of our choice, I might actually indulge in appreciating her beauty,” Jaks grumbled. 

“Or I the fact that you clean up very smartly in a tuxedo,” Mags retorted, shooting Ulla an acidic glare as she came to stop by Jak’s side in front of the priestess. 

“Priestess Luna, you’re on,” Ulla sighed. Luna nodded, aged hands trembling as she cracked open a very dusty book. 

“Sisters, brothers, cousins, friends,” she began in a weak voice, “we are here to witness the joining in matrimony of Lord Jaks, Omega of the clan Benger, of the Second House, and Lady Mags. Lord Jaks, do you take this female to be your wife?”

“...I do,” Jaks said after some hesitation, grimacing. 

“Lady Mags, do you take this male to be your husband?” 

“I-“ Mags blinked, peering more closely at Priestess Luna from underneath her heavy cowl, and smirked softly at a familiar pair of eyes. “I do not!”

“Mags?” Jaks exclaimed, straightening with surprise. 

“You’ve miscalculated Lady Ulla,” Mags snarled, rounding on Ulla, who growled at her. “Tob still lives. This entire wedding is a _farce!_”

“My youngest son is _dead!_” Ulla spat. 

“Yes, you’d hoped to have seen that for yourself, hadn’t you, with your claws at my belly and your jaws about my neck!” Tob called, ignoring the startled gasps from the wedding guests as he strode down the aisle with a slight limp. Jaks’ shoulders slumped as he let out an audible sigh of relief. He quickly turned toward the priestess.

“On that count, I withdraw my consent,” he said boldly. 

“Oh, I wasn’t qualified to begin with,” Barton laughed as she lowered the cowl and turned off the perception filter the Doctor had given her. She backed away as Ulla advanced toward her. 

“You! You conniving little _peasant!_”

“Mind your tongue!” Tob spat, launching across the room to stand between the two. “You speak to your daughter-in-law. Under the natural laws of Vulpana, we are mated.”

More gasps of outrage followed this pronouncement even as Mags and Jaks sprinted off toward his laboratory. After the twelfth time she tripped, they stopped and he ripped the bottom of the dress off at the knee with a satisfied chuckle that Mags echoed.

“Serves it right,” she decided. 

“It looks New Age Chique now,” Jaks pointed out with a grin. 

“Mm. I might just wear it to our _real _wedding if we ever get around to it.”

“Our _real-_“

“That is, if that’s okay with you. I’ve grown to quite like you, what you were willing to do to help my friends. But not just yet, I don’t think. Want to get to know you first.”

“A compromise I couldn’t be happier to hear,” Jaks breathed. They were almost to his chambers now. “I would prefer to know whom I intend to marry intrinsically as well.”

“Well, that was fast.” Jaks shrugged. 

“It is ancient Vulpanan custom and instinct to wed quickly and produce offspring at a very young age, as our world once had a high infant mortality rate. In the recent century, however, such things persist even with the advent of medicine.”

“We’re nothing if not traditional.”

“Exactly.” They shot each other a glance as they ran up the winding staircase to his lab and burst out laughing.

“Hey, if you two are gonna... _mate_ or something... do it somewhere else,” Rose snapped. The Doctor chuckled from where he sat in front of the control terminal for the moon, furiously tapping away and reconfiguring the faux-celestial object to move well out of the atmosphere for self-destruction. “Had enough of that today.”

“Wait, Barton and Tob, that was _real!?_” Jaks exclaimed, wide-eyed. “I thought they were bluffing...”

“Nope.” 

“Oh.” Jaks shrugged. “So I can expect to be an Uncle soon. I look forward to that. How’s the moon coming along?”

“Should be able to blow it up in... three... two... one!” The Doctor replied, smiling as he slammed his hand down on the destruct button and beaming. Rose ran to the telescope and grinned almost ferally as she peered at the sky, one of her ears flicking slightly as the horizon brightened when the object exploded. “Well, that’s that then. Who’s for chips?”

“What about Ulla?” Mags asked, crossing her arms and leaning her weight on one foot. 

“Tob will have that well in hand,” Jaks replied unconcernedly. 

“And it’s about time we left,” Rose added softly, biting her lip and flashing Mags a sad smile. “I’m gonna miss you.” 

“You take care of each other,” Mags murmured, walking quickly over and hugging her tightly as tears pricked her eyes. She let out a strained, forced laugh and swiped them away. “Still. We got more time together over this than I’d thought we had, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“This will always be your pack, if you ever want to come back,” Mags whispered. “I know that you haven’t found- found any of your kind yet. But I’d be honored if you considered this your pack. Considered me.” 

“Mags... I already did,” Rose sighed, clutching her more tightly and letting her own eyes get misty themselves. The Doctor tensed at that, an unreadable look crossing his face, before something like resignation settled in its place. 

“Rose? I’ll ah, I’ll see you at the TARDIS,” he said hastily, turning on his heel and walking quickly from the room.

“He hates goodbyes,” Rose said quietly after several long minutes. “But for both your sakes, we won’t leave without you getting one. Promise.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Mags muttered, a rueful smile curling up the corners of her mouth. “And I figured he’d do something like this. Figured you wouldn’t let him get away with it.”

“Right. Come on, then. And Mags, remember to pounce, or you won’t get the hug you’re looking for.”

“Understood.” 

~§§~

After saying goodbye to Mags - properly, as Rose put it - the Doctor came back to an empty console room. Rose had disappeared into the depths of the TARDIS, and he knew that, but still... the reminder that someone else had left him - or, well, it was _them_ now, wasn’t it? - was a little too on the nose. 

He set the Old Girl to drift in deep space and turned on the radio to occupy his thoughts as he worked on updating the search parameters for Letoans with heavy hearts, the doors open on the Rose Galaxies with voices of X Ambassadors drifting into a cold and unforgiving void. 

His hands stilled on the controls as Rose wrapped her arms around his torso and he felt her human warmth seeping into his back, her breath ghosting the back of his neck as she rested her chin between his shoulder blades and tilted her head up. 

“Proud of you,” she whispered. “I know that wasn’t easy.”

“I’ve often wondered why people... need... closure... but, until this evening in that laboratory, staring into Mags’ eyes, I’d never understood it. Now I do. It’s about finality. Something, in one’s life, that is concrete and stable.” He sniffed, resuming his word on the data search. “I like to pretend that there isn’t an ending, delude myself that I can always return for a quick trip whenever I wish. Saying goodbye makes it... finite. Stability.”

“And you’re afraid that I want that,” Rose summarized shrewdly. “That I want stability.”

“No, I’m afraid that I won’t be able to give it to you,” the Doctor muttered morosely. Rose slid under one of his arms so that she was between them. Between him and the console, meeting his gaze. 

“How long have we been friends? Huh? How long have I known I could count on you to be there when I needed you? That you’d stay for me, or at the very least come back if you had to leave?” Rose stroked her thumb along his jaw and smiled. “That’s stability, Doctor. That’s dependability.” 

“I just- I was updating the Letoan search parameters just now,” he explained weakly, trying to change the subject and failing miserably. “Trying to give you a place you can call home.” Rose raised an eyebrow, turning slightly to see the scanner, she reached over and canceled the search. “Rose, what-“

“I’m already home,” she whispered, lips coming up and pressing against his. The Doctor sighed, relaxing into her embrace and pulling her close, their temples brushing ever so slightly. The bond failed once again to connect and Rose huffed softly, her breath hot against his mouth. “And we’ll keep working on that until we get it right. I promise.” 

“I’ll hold you to it,” he murmured. “And Rose, just so you know, you’re my home too.”

“Quite right too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT UP: DRAGONFIRE.
> 
> ACE MCSHANE IS JOINING THE TEAM WOOT WOOT!


	33. Dragonfire I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick heads-up that this chapter will be unusually long. I typically have 4-5,000 chapters with the occasional outlier of 3,000, but this one is definitely an outlier above that. While Big Finish Audios can have an expected higher count due to the sheer amount of descriptive detail I have to convey, a typical television rewrite has an average word count.
> 
> ...However. I spent a lot of time with the tie-ins and pre-adventure content, and then forgot I had to actually write the episode. I know this doesn’t bother anyone one bit seeing as you guys love whatever content I put out, but I did want to give you a heads-up that it’ll take longer than usual to get through. *shrugs* Anyway, enjoy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PART 1 OF 3. 
> 
> This begins what I like to think of as the Ace McShane Arc. I love her, okay? She’s so pyrotechnic and she’s going to give the Doctor way too much grief over literally everything and Rose is 100% going to be the Bad Role Model™️ Enabler and I am SO here for it. 
> 
> For those of you who have watched “Dragonfire,” I have taken creative liberties with what Iceworld looks like. Due to budget and capabilities, the original story took place in a very industrial-styled environment with sharp edges, chrome, and manufactured place. I’m spicing things up a bit and making things a bit prettier. Why? Because I can, and I love the imagery that comes to mind in my head when I envision the place free from the restrictions of late 1980s special effects and BBC budget. The wonders of purely written or auditory content.
> 
> “Dragonfire” was initially a Seventh Doctor story arc featuring the departure of companion Mel Bush and the introduction of companion Ace McShane. It also featured the return of a side character named Glitz, who is being swapped out with someone our dynamic duo have actually met and the readers have seen before. Not saying who, that’s a surprise. 

The bounce of his knee had steadily increased over the last half hour that he’d been sitting on the floor of the TARDIS corridor outside of Rose’s bedroom, and at the moment the movement was aggressive and harsh enough that it was vibrating his entire body. The Doctor frowned as he looked from the ceiling to the door, to the ceiling, the lost concentration resulting in the cricket ball he’d been throwing at the opposite wall smacking him in the chest. He let out a pained _‘oof’ _and gently cradled his ribs with his right arm, wincing and pulling himself to a stand. 

His walk turned into a slow pace in the hall, then quickened into a press march, and after less than five minutes of this he groaned and gave up, walking straight up to her door and letting his forehead connect with the wood with a soft but definitive thud. 

It was ridiculous, really, especially when one took into account the fact that they had been properly dating for the past three weeks... But that cursed compulsion to form an empathic bond made giving her the four hour space to sleep a difficulty, and the fact that it had gone over by a further two hours was more than he could take. And so, despite his better judgement, the Doctor turned the handle on the door and stepped inside, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the simulated dim light of a star-specked Earth night sky. With his adept Gallifreyan senses he could easily pick out the huddled shape of his significant other under the comforter and sheets of her bed, her slow and heavy breathing further indicating that she was still asleep. This caused a frown to settle in place, as Rose’s Letoan physiology only needed a round four hours every night to reinvigorate itself. She’d slept in by a further two. 

Now more concerned than impatient, seeing as they’d both sustained plenty of bumps and bruises the prior day running with a herd of docile but burly Helfugrigble, the Doctor approached the bed and studied her. Rose _appeared _to be fine, but sleep did much to mask the injuries more prevalent in the realm of the waking, and appearances were no guarantee that everything _was _okay. 

She looked so... ethereal. When awake, she carried herself like someone in their mid-twenties and most were none the wiser to her true age. But asleep... it wasn’t that she showed her age, but rather that she appeared ageless. The Doctor blew out a soft breath of wonder and trailed soft fingers over her cheek, moving to shift her bangs out of her face. The next thing he knew, she was grabbing his arm and flinging him over the bed in a reenactment of the ‘puny god’ scene from that one superhero movie Rose had made him watch with her a few months ago on the insistence that it was pop culture heavy and a necessity for understanding post-2013 Earth (it was a downright lie).

He lay on the floor on the other side of the bed from where he had been standing for several moments, winded and stunned, mouth working uselessly to give voice to a non-coherent thought. It was all too easy, sometimes, to forget how ridiculously strong Rose was. She held herself back against their enemies and never used it against him, reserving such reminders for use against solid concrete, metal, etc, but...

“Cuddle,” Rose sighed drowsily, not waking. She still had his arm in her grip and was pressing her face against the warm softness of his jumper sleeve. 

“...Ow.” At the noise of pain, Rose dropped his arm and sat up immediately. Her eyes opened, unfocused, but still she leaned over the side of the bed to focus on him.

“You okay?”

“Oh, _swell_.” 

“You don’t look it.” 

“Yes, well-“ he grunted as he gingerly rose to a stand and sat on the edge of the bed- “I was just T.K.O.ed by an adorable but unconscious woman.” Rose’s eyes widened and the Doctor let out a yelp as she threw herself at him and hugged him tightly. “I’m fine, I swear. Just took me by surprise, is all.” His fingers crept up to run through her mussed hair, instinctively seeking out her temples, but when they made contact she flinched away. 

“Sorry,” she muttered, face flaming a rather brilliant shade of pink. “I’ve still got a killer headache from blowing out both my eardrums yesterday...”

“No telepathy,” the Doctor said brightly, nodding as he flashed her a sympathetic look. “And soft noises. I can do that.”

“What? You? Soft noises? That’s a laugh.” The affronted look he shot her in no way dampened the amused but heavily skeptical one she was bestowing upon him and he huffed. 

“Fine. If that’s the way it’s going to be, we’ll make a bet. I take you and Peri to a nice, relaxing spa and the entire time you’re there there will be no loud noises.”

“A _Star Trek _marathon,” Rose said quickly. “If I win. If _you _win, it can be a marathon of _your _choice.” 

“A bet I am more than willing to make.” 

The Doctor called Peri to say they were picking her up as Rose went about her morning routine, and half an hour later she was in the control room while he set the coordinates for the university quad in Pasadena and pulled the materialization lever. Even the TARDIS seemed to understand the need for quiet, her usual wheezing and groaning muted to a non-irritating level. 

“I really do appreciate the effort you’re making,” Rose murmured softly, hugging his side and resting her chin in the center of his chest.

“It’s my honor and my privilege to try and make you feel better when you’re unwell,” he replied, leaning down slightly to press a gentle kiss to her lips. They both all but jumped out of their skins, clinging tightly to one another, at Peri’s ungodly shriek from the open doorway. 

** _“I KNEW IT!”_**

The Doctor groaned as Rose snickered and began humming the _Star Trek TOS _main theme under her breath while Peri went on a rant about ‘seeing this coming from a long way off’ and ‘reading the signs,’ and when she paused for breath Rose stood on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. 

“It doesn’t count, Doctor. We should’ve _both _accounted for Peri.”

“You’re a saint,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to her temple and then withdrawing to a platonic distance. He smiled at their companion with a tad bit of strained warmth and input the new coordinates, flicking the switch and leaning against the console with his hands in his pockets. “Hullo, Peri.”

“Don’t you ‘hullo’ me, mister. I want answers. Who initiated the first kiss? How long have you been dating? What led up to it? Who realized first? _Why didn’t I get a phone call? _And-“

“Rose has a very bad headache after blowing out both eardrums yesterday,” he interrupted in a low voice. Peri’s mouth snapped shut immediately, eyes wide with horror as she peeped out a ‘sorry’ and looked at Rose with apology.

“It’s fine Peri,” Rose soothed, smiling. “And I’ll answer all your questions at the spa.”

“And what’ll the Doctor be doing?” Peri asked, raising an eyebrow. Rose shrugged, looking at him.

“Well, the planet Midnight is a fabulous spa resort,” he said unconcernedly. “But they have this bus tour of a sapphire waterfall that sounds very interesting, so I thought I’d give it a go while you get your facials or whatever it is they do at spas.”

“Mud baths,” Peri said immediately. 

“None for me, ta,” Rose countered almost immediately with a smirk. “Had my fill of one of those, don’t recommend it.”

“That’s not nearly half as funny as you think it is,” the Doctor commented with a small frown. “You were downright miserable.”

“And I love that you care,” she retorted with an adoring smile. The TARDIS gave a small shudder as they landed and the grin widened. “And on that note, time to grab the pool bag.” 

“I’d hold off on that if I were you,” the Doctor warned, eyeing the scanner and coordinates. “It seems she’s taken it upon herself to land us somewhere else...”

“Oh. Well, she always has a reason. So, let’s see what it is,” Rose suggested. Peri shrugged. 

“I’m game if you are,” she said. “I’m just glad to unwind a little after my finals.” 

“...Oh, all right,” the Doctor sighed, clearly annoyed. “But I’ll have you know that the bet doesn’t start properly until you get to your spa.” 

“Mm... Deal,” Rose replied, shaking on it. “So? Where are we then?” 

“Iceworld... hm. Only heard of it in passing before. Seems to be a trading colony, a small little sort of station on the planet Svartos.” He frowned. “That’s odd. It’s on the dark side of the planet. Most colonies put their stations on the side facing the sun, so that they have to generate less artificial heat.”

“Well, maybe it’s a winter wonderland,” Peri suggested. “What with being named ‘Iceworld’ and all.” She glanced down at her California shorts and tank top and winced. “Yeah, I’m gonna change before I head out into some thermal underwear and a parka.” 

“You’ll be all right in those jeans and that jumper?” The Doctor asked a few moments later, gesturing at Rose’s attire. She shrugged.

“If I get too chilly I can snuggle up next to you under your coat,” she teased sweetly, smirking as he swallowed.

“Ooh, don’t get my hopes up,” he sighed wistfully. “I know full well you refer to me as a ‘walking icicle’ when it comes to regulating my body temperature.”

“Yeah, but the jumper and coat will be warm.”

“Shameless use of my person to commandeer my clothes, yet again.”

“You love it.” 

“I admit to nothing.” 

“There you go again, stating the obvious,” Peri snickered as she reappeared and stuck her arm through the sleeve of a parka. “TARDIS recommended this little number so I’m going to go out on a limb and assume that it’s gonna get pretty nippy.” She shot an appraising look at Rose. “I may need to snuggle into your fur later on.”

“Mm, sorry, cuddle fest already reserved,” the Doctor said in an uncharacteristically-sweet voice with a sugary smile. Peri’s mouth dropped slightly open before she smirked and nodded, sauntering out the door.

“Were you _flirting _with me!? in front of _Peri!?_” Rose asked, gaping. The Doctor turned to look at her, eyes sparkling like sunlight on ocean, and she laughed incredulously. “Wow. Okay, I think I’m really gonna like this thing we’ve got going.” 

“I should certainly hope so,” he teased, offering her his hand. At the last moment - remembering her clause on no telepathy attempts - he switched to offering his arm instead so that they touched fabric to fabric without the involvement of skin. They followed Peri out the door and into a frosty environment, icy treats and warm beverages being offered at almost every stall. Frozen goods and non-perishable supplies seemed to be the main staples, and it was cold enough that even the Doctor’s breath was visible in vapors as he exhaled in the frosty air. 

A young girl dressed in what looked like a futuristic ballet dress was staring at them with wide eyes while her mother chatted with a nearby stall vendor, and the Doctor doffed his hat with a short bow toward her wearing the biggest grin he could muster. The open-mouthed wonder was abruptly replaced by the shy glee of childhood as she giggled and swayed in place, inching closer to her mother and peering out from around her legs.

“Twenty-seventh century Shirley Temple,” Rose whispered, and he had to fight the urge to burst out laughing. Instead he straightened back to a stand and tucked his folded hat into an inner coat pocket, eyeing up their surroundings with the curiosity of one who has never been in a particular place before that moment. After a short time, he nodded toward a hanging sign and began walking with aimless purpose in the direction of nothing in particular, Rose and Peri close behind. 

If the previous room had been a sort of market, the long open hall they found themselves in was artfully designed. Soft white powder crunched under the soles of their shoes and dusted everything, genuine ice sculptures scattered about the place like those strange art walks some smaller towns were prone to have. Beloved by tourists, hated by the people that lived there. Strange shapes and images marketed as art. Bright blue-tinted light shone from fixtures running along the ceiling edges presenting as icicles and reflected coolly off of any and all reflective surfaces, which did not include the slate gray concrete floor or the light blue-veined rock walls that looked as if they had been hewn from the planet itself. Everything was a very strange - and somewhat mystifying - mix of industry and artistic flair, and the odd thing was that the planet wasn’t known for being a tourist destination so much as a trading hub. 

Not that they were complaining. Space stations and colony outposts could become awfully dull after seeing so many of them in large doses, and a stylized one was a breath of fresh (albeit recycled) air. 

“Think they have a skating rink somewhere around here?” Rose asked, smiling. The Doctor quite literally stopped dead in the middle of the corridor and chuckled nervously, fingers running through the hair at the back of his head as if he were trying to use them for replacement ukulele strings. “What? What did I say? W- _oh_.” Rose walked around him stopped so that she could see him properly, smirking as she toyed with the celery on his jacket lapel in a semi-innocent gesture. 

Peri gaped and also walked around to watch the exchange with a better view off on the side, her mouth dropping entirely open when he let out a soft squeak of embarrassed discomfort and then coughed to try and cover it up. Rose wasn’t letting him off the hook in the slightest. 

“You don’t know how to skate, do you?” She asked, poking him lightly in the center of his chest. “You’ve said it yourself on numerous occasions that Gallifrey is largely desert, scrub, and grassland with a small sprinkling of Gallifreyan-unique savanna forests and orchards. A nice, dry, all but perpetually-summer heat due to exposure from two suns.”

“I... may have dabbled once, in my third incarnation, when a pond near U.N.I.T. HQ froze over and Jo convinced me to-” 

“And?”

“And... I fell flat on my back,” the Doctor huffed, raising exasperated eyes to the curved ceiling and sighing. “The entire base was in uproar and I never lived it down. Now can we _please_ drop it?”

“I could... teach you,” Rose offered, blinking up at him. “Might need to stay close, to make sure you don’t slip and fall... ‘s kinda like a slow dance then.” The Doctor blinked, opening his mouth a couple of times, but no words came out. He was looking down at her with a slightly hooded and tender focus that showed he was seriously contemplating the potential of the idea from a romantic perspective. 

“Oh look, an ice cream parlor,” Peri said quickly, suddenly entirely uncomfortable with witnessing this. Listening to harmless flirting was one thing - a very _welcome _thing after suffering through all of the mutual oblivious pining and denial - but actually seeing it work was a whole other matter that hadn’t even occurred to her. _Third Wheel Syndrome_. That, she could do without. The pair of them jumped, having gotten lost in their own little bubble, but at least had the decency to look apologetically sheepish as they followed her into the parlor.

The room was blessedly warmer but still carried a chill to it, perfect for allowing the product and decoration to remain in tip top shape but still letting the clientele eat their purchases without catching frostbite. It carried a vaguely Earth 1950s feel to it, oddly enough, but this went unnoticed by the trio as they walked in because Rose was staring at the waitress behind the counter with wide eyes. 

A soft growl escaped her as the hairs on her arms and the nape of her neck rose like hackles, her entire focus trained on that one individual. The reaction was so unexpected and immediate that it left her companions floundering to rationalize it. By all accounts, the girl appeared normal. Human girl, appeared to be in her teens. A low ponytail of dirty blonde hair shifted from tan to rich brown depending on light exposure, and she carried herself with a sort of brash self-confidence born from a hard upbringing. 

She also seemed to be from the Greater London area, if the way she was bickering with her coworker was anything to go by in the accent of her voice.

“Fascinating,” the Doctor breathed, eyes unfocused as he observed her timelines. “She seems to have been displaced from her own place and time- ooh... looks like a time storm...”

“‘Time Storm?’” Peri repeated, brow furrowing. “How can you tell?” 

“They’re rare, but they make odd little crinkles in the timeline. Like ah...” he snapped his fingers with a smile. “Like when you forget to fold your laundry and it gets those nasty lines in it.”

“Oh.” 

“Which _does _tell me when she’s from, generally speaking if not specifically, but it unfortunately does _not _tell me what it is about her person that invoked such hostility in Rose.” He lightly tapped her on the arm and frowned when she flinched at the touch. “So?”

“Fenrin Wolf,” she growled. His jaw dropped slightly as he looked swiftly between Rose and the waitress, Peri merely standing in complete confusion and hoping to glean insight by listening in. She’d learned long ago not to ask when they got tunnel vision; with the staggeringly astounding amount of unequal time that passed for them compared to hers between the times they traveled together all it would do was give her a headache. 

“How can you tell?” The Doctor asked, leaning down slightly and lowering his voice, echoing the question Peri had issued toward him only moments prior. 

“I- I don’t-“ She growled again, sighing, and twirled her finger in the general vicinity of her temple. “It’s like a telepathic recognition, bone deep. Hard-wired...”

“Got the same between Great Vampires and Gallifreyans,” he said with a knowing nod. 

“But it’s, it’s off. Fuzzy. Like... like it’s a part of her, buried, and so deep she doesn’t realize it yet. She’s not- not a Wolf like me, per se. Just. Human. With a very dark potential...” Rose shivered and then pressed the palm of her hand to the side of her head with a sigh. “Ugh. My head’s such a mess right now, with this stupid headache. But I _can _tell that all of that’s weirdly instinctual.” 

“Do you wanna leave?” Peri asked. “If she bothers you that much.”

“I want to keep an eye on her. I think-“ she swallowed. “I think she’s the reason the TARDIS brought us here.”

“...Very possible,” the Doctor murmured after a short contemplative silence. “She’s out of her time _and _place, and if she’s a Fenrin there may be a reason we need to make acquaintance.” His brow furrowed as he sighed exasperatedly. “You know, I _did _say that we needed to take a good few days after Vulpana and do some deep digging into any and all legends or myths surrounding Leto and Fenric, but no-“

“You said no such thing, you were too busy purring into my ear while we cuddled watching a movie in the media room,” Rose countered, crossing her arms. “And by purring, I mean full-on _feline _rumbling.”

“Didn’t seem to bother you, the way you snuggled up against my chest and giggled when you felt it vibrating through my rib cage,” he needled. When she scowled he smiled triumphantly, leaning in and pressing the bridge of his nose against the topmost side of her forehead. “And in the future kindly refrain from _ever _comparing me to a cat ever again.” 

“Dislike them, do you?”

“Says someone affiliated with the _canis lupus _family. And as for my not mentioning the need for research, I was - as you have so helpfully pointed out - otherwise distracted and occupied.” He withdrew to a more casual distance and shrugged. “Either way, we have plenty of time once we get back to the TARDIS to dig through every scrap of information we can find.” He swallowed. “How do you want to handle this, Rose?” 

”Observe?” She suggested, a doubtful tone creeping into her voice as she sighed and slumped into the nearest chair of an unoccupied table. Her friends joined her. Peri took one look at her and laughed.

“Your hair’s gone all bushy, like you’re trying to make yourself look bigger,” she snickered. Rose scowled at that and hastily ran her fingers through it to weave it into a tight braid. Without a word, the Doctor reached into his pockets and produced a hair tie that she snatched and tied the braid off with. They made general small-talk, mostly catching Peri up on what was going on, and they didn’t have to wait long before a server came by to take their order.

The girl approached their table with a plastered-on smile and abruptly froze when she made eye contact with Rose, pupils dilating ever so slightly before she shook herself and the mask fell into place again as she pulled out a transparent stylus pad and asked for their order. Peri ordered a hot chocolate to appease her chattering teeth while Rose and the Doctor decided to try some frozen yogurt and fruit smoothies (the Doctor peach, Rose mango). It was while they were waiting for their refreshments that some very unexpected persons entered back into their lives.

“Doctor? Rose!? Peri! What on E- well, _Iceworld_\- are you doing here!?” 

“Turlough!” The Doctor exclaimed, shooting to his feet with a shocked grin on his face. Rose and Peri peered around him from where they were still seated at their table, smiling. Turlough was gaping at them, eyes alight with happiness, and none other than his younger brother Malkon, who was peering over Turlough’s shoulder with an uneasy, nervous smile. “Well. Suffice it to say, we can be anywhere. The bigger question is ‘what are _you _doing here?’ It’s a good- ooh, _twelve _systems away from Trion?” 

“Sit down,” Rose offered, laughing when the Doctor let out a soft ‘ah’ upon realizing what it was he had been forgetting. Etiquette, as usual, was ever his Achilles’ Heel. “‘S really good to see you. Seriously though, I thought you were going to stay on Trion?”

“I was, yes,” Turlough admitted as he pulled a chair over from a nearby table and sat next to his brother. “But they wanted me to go into _politics_. So I said ‘no thank you,’ got that old ship of my father’s properly fixed up, and took off. Took quite a few years though, so I finished my schooling and got Malkon well and properly settled into his academics as well, and when all was ready we left.”

“Well, why go to all that trouble instead of just taking a vacation or something?” Peri asked. The waitress came by again and Turlough and Malkon ordered, at which point she swept off again. Turlough shrugged.

“Well, I focused my studies in astrophysics. Passed, by the way, full honors thank you very much. Wanted to put those skills to use, so I run data for the research branch of Trion’s government. It’s nice to visit Trion when I deliver the data, and even if Malkon _is _doing self-study he still has to attend the exams in person.”

“They’re very difficult, but I’m enjoying expanding my horizons and learning the history of my people,” Malkon offered with a small smile. “But I think I might specialize in music. I find the rhythms and chords soothing when I play.” 

“He’s very talented,” Turlough offered him with a proud smile. He focused back on his friends. “In answer to your earlier question, we needed fuel. And uh, whilst waiting, we heard whispers of some sort of dragon about this place, and needless to say it’s got our interest piqued.”

“Wanna explore together?” Rose asked with a grin. “For old times’ sake?”

“Oh, _yes please_.” 

The Doctor had been listening to the exchange with a peculiar look on his face, contemplating his current predicament. It was... strange. He didn’t just _run in to people that traveled with him _like this. He met the Brigadier on accident often, but that was more a collision of like interests than anything else. But this? No. 

And yet.

And yet, it had happened thrice now. The first occasion had been running into Nyssa on Logopolis - though that was orchestrated by his own person under the guise of The Watcher helping fulfill his end of a causal loop regarding the imminent regeneration of his past self - and the second occasion had been Tegan. Leaving her at Heathrow, where he thought she’d wanted to be, only to run into her dealing with the Arc of Infinity and Omega as she searched for her cousin in Amsterdam. Now Turlough. 

He’d been the most family-oriented he’d ever been, really, in his current incarnation. In his prior lives he’d preferred taking on a friend or two, but they were just that: friends. Even his original, his first, incarnation had preferred to be aloof from his traveling companions. The lingering effects of a Time Lord indoctrination keeping cold ghostly fingers hooked into him. The one concession he’d made to that was Susan, his granddaughter from the future who he couldn’t help but feel a familial telepathic bond with despite the woeful weakness of his telepathic abilities in that body. He’d tried, certainly, but he’d approached her upbringing as that of a future Time Lady, keeping that aloof instructor relationship rather than letting her in as he could in hindsight see she was so desperately wanting. More of a... human relationship. He’d tried, and he knew he came up short. 

Susan was the only family he’d had that had ever actually acted like family in the ways that sorely mattered to a man of his consistently-more sensitive temperaments, and when he had regenerated into his current form it had been to Adric as a sort of unofficial ward, Nyssa looking for belonging after the Master had destroyed her planet and stolen the body of her father, and... well. The Doctor could admit to himself that he’d fancied Tegan in passing - before they’d properly gotten to know one another and he came to the almost immediate conclusion that they’d end up strangling one another if anything more than friendship was attempted. Such as it was her repeated cracks at his driving and general complaints about constant danger quickly nipped any potential attraction he had held (for a span of microseconds) in the bud. 

It all combined, however, to mean that his new form was meant to fit into the family niche. Two adolescent individuals on board, plus someone who might have passed as his sister due to appearance of like age by the end of their journeys together. And so he was younger, more even-tempered, more gentle and compassionate, and only Rassilon knew how he’d managed to muster the long-suffering patience in his current body that was twice that of his last four combined (he suspected it was a coping mechanism to deal with the hormone-ridden moody teenagers). 

So, the Doctor couldn’t help but wonder why he had trouble letting companions go. Was it because he was missing that family niche he’d all too briefly had, and was subconsciously compensating in a way that was influencing the TARDIS? Or was something manipulating their timelines? It wouldn’t be the first occurrence of such a thing, after all. Or was it preparation for the family that he would create that eventually led to Susan’s hands-on nurturing upbringing prior to her traveling with his first incarnation? 

He paled suddenly at that line of thought - particularly because it inevitably led to musings on who Susan’s grandmother was and that was _not _something he even dared think much less _hope _about with Rose quite literally sitting right next to him - and he breathed a sigh of relief as the Fenrin Wolf girl brought their table their drinks. 

Sipping at his drink, the Doctor sighed and leant back in his chair only to realize that the entire table was staring at him. 

“What?” He asked. 

“You were really out of it,” Turlough commented with a smile. “Off in your own little bubble universe where even saying your name five times went unheard.”

“Talking about a dragon that supposedly lives in a series of ice tunnels under Iceworld, and got nothing out of you,” Peri added, dropping her chin onto her folded arms against the table and grinning. “We were about ready to start balancing things on the top of your head.” 

“Turlough was explaining that travelers spot it over the centuries but there’s never any proof,” Rose explained with an eye roll. “Like the Loch Ness Monster. At which point I had to explain that it was a Zygon robot that you dealt with in your last body with Alistair.”

“And I say that’s a load of rubbish,” Turlough countered. The Doctor shifted in his seat and their friend’s eyes widened. “No way.”

“...Um...” 

“I’ll show you the picture of Alistair in a kilt later,” Rose laughed, reaching over and ruffling the Doctor’s hair. His eyes fluttered closed as a pleased purr tumbled through his chest and she bit her lip, meeting Turlough’s startled gaze and slack jaw from across the table. 

“And just when did _this _happen!?” He exclaimed. The Doctor’s eyes shot open at that comment and he cleared his throat awkwardly before leaning away from Rose’s fingers. 

“Recently?” He offered lamely, fighting down the autonomic urge to blush in embarrassment. “Why? Did you have bets too?”

“No. To be honest, I had it called within the first two weeks and thought you were in a secret relationship since the third month of Rose traveling with us.” 

“If you’d said something it might have saved us all a bunch of trouble,” the Doctor grumbled. 

“And speaking of trouble, our friend over there seems to be having difficulties with her manager,” Malkon murmured, head tilting as he eavesdropped on the not-so-silent argument occurring. Like a pack of rank amateur probationary agents on their first stakeout, the other four turned in their seats to observe the interaction. They watched as she turned on her heel with an angry scowl, sitting frozen in their chairs as she saw them unabashedly staring.

“Well what do you want?” She muttered, crossing her arms and looking off to the side. 

“Nothing,” Turlough squeaked, taking a large gulp of his soda and wincing. 

“Turlough, why is there supposed to be a dragon underneath this place?” The Doctor asked, abruptly changing the subject with prejudice.

“Well, it’s supposed to be guarding secret treasure as far as the legends are concerned. But that’s the way it always is with dragon tales, isn’t it?”

“...Mm, par for the standard course I suppose.”

“Yeah, but when is anything ever fake or simple like _Scooby Doo _where we’re concerned?” Rose pointed out dryly. 

“And that right there is the answer that puts you at the top of the class Miss Tyler,” the Doctor replied with a smile, tapping her on the nose. She batted her eyelashes and leaned in slightly, her voice a flirtatious murmur.

“Meaning I don’t need to do any extra credit to get an ‘A’ then eh Professor?” She teased. Peri choked on her drink and Turlough coughed to hide a guffaw. The Doctor, entirely oblivious to the ways of human innuendo, merely blinked and shrugged, happily sipping at his smoothie before frowning.

“I say, Peri. You should get that looked at,” he said concernedly as she continued coughing after swallowing her beverage down the wrong way. “Sounds like you’re coming down with a cold or something.” 

“If you’re going after the treasure, you might need a treasure map,” the waitress said unexpectedly, making them all jump. She pulled it out of her apron and tossed it into the center of the table. I was planning on going by myself this weekend, but I wouldn’t mind handing it over if you let me come with.” 

“Where’d you get this from?” Rose asked, eyeing it over with a soft bemused frown. The girl shrugged. 

“Bloke got arrested about a week back, dropped it. Picked it up off the floor. Why, does it matter?” She tilted her head slightly to look at the Doctor and smirked. “Anyway, _Professor_, you’re not from around here, and you need a local.”

“Which you are not,” he pointed out shrewdly. She shrugged again and curtsied. 

“Nope. Perivale, England, Earth. 1987. Name’s Ace McShane, and I have no idea how I got here.”

“Well, I have _some _idea, but not the how,” the Doctor admitted. “I can explain later if you wish, and even give you a lift back home if you so desire. But for the moment...” he took the map and spread it flat on the table, using their beverages to hold down the corners. “...I’m much more interested in this. See, it shows the lower levels of Iceworld. Very old, as the parchment speaks for itself in such a digital age much less the fading of the ink and decomposition of the wood pulp. There are places on it no longer accessible if I’d wager my guess. Ice Gardens, Singing Trees...”

“Dangerous dragons out to make us their dinner,” Peri pointed out with a small long-suffering smile, leaning her chin on the hand of an arm propped against the table. 

“Oh, do be more optimistic Peri.”

“Oh, sure. I’d _love _to go to the _very pleasant _Lake of Oblivion, or the Death of Eternal Darkness... oh! My personal favorite is _Dragonfire_. Speaks for itself, Doctor.” 

“The pessimist is Peri Brown,” Rose explained with a smile to a bemused but interested Ace - who had pulled up a chair and made herself right at home at their table - before forging ahead. “She’s from California 1986, so not too far off from you. The copper top over there is Vislor Turlough, but he’ll scowl at ya if you call him by his first name. From a planet called Trion. And that’s his brother Malkon.” Rose patted the Doctor’s arm and glanced at him with a tender but exasperated expression. “This one’s called the Doctor, and he’s from Gallifrey.”

“Ireland?” Ace asked, brow furrowing.

“Why does everyone always ask that?” The Doctor sighed slumping in his seat. 

“Because there’s a city in Ireland called ‘Gallifrey’ and sounds just like your planet, even spelled the same,” Rose said. He blinked. 

“...Oh.”

“In answer to your question,” Rose continued, returning her attention to a curious Ace, “he’s from a people called Time Lords. And me, I’m Rose Tyler. London, early 2000s.”

“Ace!” Ace exclaimed in much the same way other girls her age would say ‘wicked!’ Her beaming grin was abruptly smacked off her face at the shrill voice of a woman at the table next to theirs. 

“You, girl!” Ace blinked, looking at her, and she sighed impatiently. “Yes, _you girl. _Come here!” She was dressed quite ostentatiously, the little girl from earlier sitting beside her and swinging her feet in her chair. Reluctantly, Ace stood to go about her job and approached the table. 

“What do you want?” The question wasn’t rude, but it wasn’t pleasant either, and the customer wrinkled her nose.

“This milkshake, it isn’t adequately shaken,” she said haughtily, hefting the apparently offended article up for inspection. Ace frowned.

“But that’s how they come, missus.”

“It’s got lumps in it!” 

“The lumps are the ice cream,” Peri called over. The woman, who really had no business being foul to _everyone _in the parlor, sneered at her.

“Well, we don’t _want _lumps in it.” She thrust the beverage at Ace, who fumbled to catch it and glared at her. “Shake it some more!” 

“You mean ‘_purée_,” Rose muttered sourly, meeting her angry gaze with a level stare. “Shaking it won’t do it any good.” 

“Oh, nonsense Rose! I think it’ll work just fine!” Ace said cheerfully, flipping the drink upside down so that the contents landed right on the woman’s head. “See?” 

“Hey!” The manager exclaimed, racing over. “I’m terribly sorry, miss. It will never happen again. In fact-“ he turned abruptly on Ace, who jerked backwards as he stuck a finger in her face. “You’re fired!”

“Good, it means I can do _this!_” And with that, she picked up the other glass on the table and dumped it over _his _head before racing out of the ice cream parlor. 

“Think that’s our cue to leave,” Turlough said nervously as the now-irate manager turned to glare at their table. 

“Agreed,” the Doctor breathed. They quickly rose from their seats and followed Ace out at a fast clip. 

“I’m having a really hard time not liking her,” a Rose admitted. “Customer service is the worst.” 

“Kindred spirits?”

“A little bit. And it’s not like Perivale is _too _far away from Peckham... other side of London, really...” 

“You look like you should still be in school,” Turlough commented as they moved from the more commercial corridors to the residential district.

“And you look like you’ve just got out of it,” Ace snapped. “Bet you got your planet’s equivalent of high score on your A Levels and all.”

“And what’s wrong with that if I have?” He sniffed, quickly growing annoyed. His own less than effervescent personality was beginning to clash with her brash one. 

“Well, I got suspended, all right? Never took mine.” She crossed her arms and scuffed at the floor with her shoe, eyeing the action with singular focus. “Mind you, they suspended me for being smart enough to make nitroglycerin with the art and chemistry supplies...”

“You blew up your school!?” Peri exclaimed, shocked. 

“Nah, just the art room. It was only a little explosion.” 

“I never got my A Levels either,” Rose soothed, stepping into the conversation and making an effort to keep her hackles lowered as she fought the instinctive alarm bells that rang as she turned her back on Ace. “And everybody in this room’s caused more than their fair share of explosions, even you Malkon- if what Turlough’s told me of your science studies is any indication.”

“Look, I just need to pop by my room here and grab my bag and jacket, and then we can get looking for that dragon,” Ace sighed. 

“Actually, I was thinking that you, Rose, and Malkon should stay in the upper levels,” the Doctor suggested. “See, Turlough’s ship is in for repairs. Malkon can keep an eye on it. And Rose has a very bad headache.”

“Well, what does that have to do with me?” Ace pouted. And yes, it was a full-on teenager angst-ridden pout.

“You’re the closest thing to a local, so if they try anything you won’t be fooled. Besides. I’ve got an object in the marketplace I’d like moved to the same hangar as the ship just to be cautious, but I don’t even know where to begin on the paperwork.”

“Yeah, fine,” Ace conceded. She could see the logic in that. 

“Worried the dragon will roar in my face?” Rose asked weakly. The Doctor sighed, pulling her close, so that only she could see his eyes flick toward Ace. She gave the tiniest of grateful nods for giving her an excuse, and without thinking she pressed her forehead against his. Instinctively, he reached out and habitually failed to find purchase. The searing bolt of pain the action caused in response had her giving a soft cry of pain and dropping to the floor before he caught her, cradling her head against his chest but being doubly careful to not make skin on skin contact.

“Oh, I’m sorry darling,” the Doctor murmured soothingly as Peri rapidly filled the other three in on the situation in harried whispers. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know,” Rose whimpered, pulling back to give him a watery grin as her eyes streamed involuntarily with tears. “You be careful, yeah? You, Turlough, and Peri. Watch out for one another. If I feel better I might join ya.”

“I’ll hold you to that, and we will,” he promised. After a few last-minute instructions, the one group of six became two groups of three. And while Ace retrieved a rucksack full of old deodorant cans full of her own special explosive recipe Nitro-9 and pulled on a puffy black jacket stuck with fifty different types of pins, the Doctor was following the instructions of an old map of slightly dubious origins ever deeper beneath the planet’s surface. 

~§§~

It was after Rose and Ace had been arrested - and Malkon had somehow managed to get back to the ship without being noticed in the confusion - that they were brought deep under the base to a man named Kane. He was dressed entirely in white, his skin unnaturally pale against the other human colonists with blue eyes grey like a winter sky and steely black hair slicked back and gleaming. His people were dressed rather like Gestapo but in the Arctic Uniform Catalogue, and he radiated authority. 

Rose, who had copped to being the brains behind the operation to get Ace out of trouble, stood calmly as he circled around her like a predator assessing the quality of its prey. Ace stood on a catwalk above the icy courtyard they were in, Kane’s right hand woman Belazs gripping her arm tightly. 

“I hear you and your associate are quite handy with explosives,” he finally commented after a solid ten minutes, coming to stop in front of her with unnatural stillness. 

“We were merely trying to help your people clear the ice fall in one of the hangar shafts,” Rose said calmly. “How we went about that is our business.”

“A woman with fire in her belly,” he laughed. It was a cold, unfeeling laugh and decidedly unpleasant. He glanced briefly at the catwalk as he spoke before returning his attention back on her. “I like that, don’t I, Belazs? I might yet have a use for you.”

“Not interested.”

“Oh, I can be... very persuasive,” he murmured, eyes connecting with hers in a very focused gaze that had her rooted on the spot. A rather malevolent telepathic presence skirted her shields and she snarled softly, letting him... for the moment. “Can you imagine? Traveling the Twelve Galaxies as one of my mercenaries, the diamond sparkle of meteorite showers, the rainbow flashes of an ion storm. Think about it...” the presence became more insistent and Rose pushed back hard, pleased to see that he took a physical stumble backward as if he’d been slapped.

“It’s not polite to snoop on someone else’s mind,” she snarled. “Telepaths especially.”

“How old are you?” Kane asked sharply, dark anger finally coloring his features.

“Far older than I look,” she whispered, voice dripping with hostility as she leaned slightly forward. 

“Letoan,” he breathed hoarsely, eyes widening. 

“Ace, run!” Rose shouted, shifting into her Wolf form and letting out an ear-splitting howl that had icicles falling like daggers from the ceiling as she jumped onto a control table and launched herself through the air toward the catwalk, aiming right for the woman Belazs. She jumped out of the way with a scream, her grip on Ace lost in the process, and the pair legged it out of the secret base. Only when they had gotten to a nice, safe alcove did Rose shift back.

“You’re a Werewolf!” Ace panted. 

“It’s a really offensive term,” Rose snapped. 

“And that man, you said he attacked you telepathically?”

“Yeah. Why?” 

“Well, why did him _trying _to hurt you not bother you at all, but when you brain-snogged the Professor or whatever that was in the hallway, you screamed bloody murder?” 

Rose opened her mouth to reply, but she had none available. She closed it again as her brow furrowed in confusion.

~§§~

_Rose’s howl was heard deep in the tunnels, causing the Doctor, Peri, and Turlough to look up in alarm as snow dusted their heads. The echo had shaken loose the ceiling, and with a shout of terror the Doctor told his companions to run as it triggered a sort of avalanche and the tunnel top caved in. _

_Rounding a corner, he slipped on black ice and went flying into an old and rusted guard rail on the edge of an ice-carved gorge. The unreliable safety precaution buckled on weight and force of impact, and the Doctor genuinely screamed in outright fear as memories of his fourth incarnation’s death flashed cruelly before his eyes. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, new story arc with Ace and the ever-elusive Fenric-Leto conflict... everybody who knows Classic Who, I would LOVE to know the theories in everybody’s heads (just expect only vague, cheeky responses if you do... :)
> 
> As for the Fifth Doctor disliking cats, this is not a part of his character I base off of the Tenth Doctor episode “Fear Her,” which most might assume. In Big Finish Audio, he has an original companion called Erimem (a former Egyptian Pharaoh) who brought her cat Antranak on board. He and the cat had a mutual hatred for one another, and there are actually canonical recordings of the cat growling at him and then him going “Ow!” because he was trying to shoo it off the console and it scratched him. Erimem didn’t start traveling with him until he was with Peri, after Turlough had left - in the gap between episodes “Planet of Fire” and “Caves of Androzani” - so he hasn’t met the cat yet.
> 
> ...I stress “yet.” But anyway. 
> 
> Also, tentative Title List for the Entire ‘Something of the Wolf’ series that I have the roots for and hope to get to the very end of:  
01.) Something of the Wolf  
02.) Little Red Riding Hood  
03.) With All My Hearts  
04.) Running to Stand Still  
05.) Kwik Cricket  
06.) Nevermore  
07.) Wolves Howl With Storms  
08.) A Survivor’s Requiem  
09.) Blood Moon Rising  
10.) Evermore
> 
> I really like all of them, though I’m still sketchy on number seven and will probably change it several times before I have to settle...


	34. Dragonfire II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quick note on content length: Seeing as the last chapter was so long you would probably wonder. But honestly, not much happened in this part of the episode when I did my watch through that wasn’t negated by my adapting it. 
> 
> Also, I definitely glammed up the dragon because if there’s one thing you can count on it’s that I’m gonna glam up a dragon if I get the opportunity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just got Star Wars: Jedi - Fallen Order from EA Origin for 50% at a STEAL and let me tell you it is ADDICTING. Superb graphics, wonderful music and voice-acting, and the world-building is both massive and INSANE. The controls feel like a mix of Prince of Persia and Tomb Raider, as do the objectives, but the plot line is extremely immersive and wonderfully written. Incorporates Dathomir from Clone Wars, Kashyyyk from Episode III (and we FINALLY get to see what that place looks like decently), and certain species and characters from the animated “Clone Wars” and “Rebels” tv series. I am in Nerd Heaven. Ooh. And- OH SWEET LORD THE CLONES IN FLASHBACKS ARE VOICED BY DEE BRADLEY BAKER. 

The fingers wrapping tightly around the Doctor’s ankle made skin on skin contact, the influx of foreign raw terror and brute force determination assaulting him and leaving him winded as he slammed into the side of the ice ravine and his cheek cut and bled from the rough walled surface. The emotional shock did enough to distract from the pain of the injury, but the fact remained that his entire skeleton seemed to shudder on impact at the harsh collision. 

“Turlough?” He rasped, fighting down panic. It didn’t work. _“Turlough!?_” 

“I’ve got you, Doctor!” Turlough called down, voice strained with the effort of not going over after. They skipped a few inched further and the Doctor felt his bypass rather cowardly give out in the wake of full-blown hyperventilation. The bottomless mists of the ravine directly below him seemed to swim and he whimpered, tightly shutting his eyes as he struggled to draw in air through quick, shallow breathes that weren’t sufficient to 

“You two all right over there?” Peri called from further up the passage. Good she was safe. 

“I think-“ Turlough grunted as they slipped again. “Oh boy. Peri, call Rose. For such a fit-looking bloke Doctor, you sure do weigh a ton.” 

“D- Denser muscle tissue, and double all the internal organs you have as well as a few extra ribs,” the Doctor stuttered, shaking. His fingers clenched and unclenched before desperately scrabbling at the ice in futile search of purpose, razor-sharp crystals tearing into his palms and cutting deep underneath his fingernails. “W-what I lack in body fat I make up for in genetic precaution.”

“‘Genetic precaution?’” Peri echoed, the beeps of phone buttons tapping out rapidly as she scrolled through the contacts on her (totally a product of the 1980s and thus not a temporal asynchronicity) Apple iPhone X and snapped a picture of what was going on. 

“He means that- _stop. Squirming. Doctor _\- He means that if one of his organs fails he can survive on the other one for several hours before he’d have to have a regeneration,” Turlough explained, gritting his teeth and bracing his feet more securely against the support bars of the rickety railing. The ground he was one was pure ice, slippery and getting even more slick as it warmed from his body heat. He didn’t put much faith in it considering it was the reason for their current predicament. “All of them function at once, which is why his body is more efficient than ours. But he can survive on just one for a while if he has to. But painful.”

“How...? No, I actually _don’t _wantto know how you know that, because it probably involves witnessing it firsthand,” Peri muttered, wincing. “Are you sure we can wait for Rose?”

“If the Doctor weren’t so _heavy_, it wouldn’t be an issue,” Turlough growled, panting as his feet slipped just a bit more. 

“And if _you _did some upper body lifting, it wouldn’t be an issue either!” The Doctor snapped, groaning as he squirmed once more out of sheer instinctive panic and smacked his shoulder into the ice sheet. “You and your stick arms...” 

“Open your eyes, Doctor,” Peri said in amusement. 

“I- I don’t think I shall, Peri. If that’s all right with you,” he whimpered, brow furrowing ever so slightly at the soft cracking of ice beginning above and then progressing to below him. His bangs ruffled ever so slightly from a hot gust of air that smelled of and he reluctantly blinked his eyes open, too curious to not investigate. Rose’s snout was centimeters from from his face, her amber eyes crinkled ever so slightly with what passed as her lupine expression of amusement. 

“...Ah.” He swallowed several times, body still trembling as his eyes focused with macabre interest on the endless mist-shrouded abyss directly past her shoulders. “...Mm...” 

Her long pink tongue lightly flicked out and caught him on the nose, and she reached up to rest her head against his chest. His eyes fluttered closed at the warmth of her fur under his chin, the firm pressure of something holding him up. He was finally able to take a deep, steadying breath as his heartsrate slowly returned to normal and he swallowed again to regain composure in his voice. 

After a few moments Rose climbed her way upward slightly, her teeth gripping firmly to his coat and shirt collars. He crossed his arms across his chest and gripped them tightly at the elbows, and then let out an involuntary yelp as Turlough let go. The Doctor swung violently and ended up hanging the right way up, secure in Rose’s ironclad jaw. The blood rushing back into his body after settling into his head, he blinked to ward off the forming black spots and sighed out a shuddering breath. 

No longer panicking, he was able to properly take in their current predicament. Rose was clinging - rather impressively - to the icy surface by four sets of claws embedded deep, her head twisted slightly and awkwardly to the side and supporting the entirety of his weight on her neck alone. Despite this her head was held high, her muscles tensed but not strained. He wrapped his arms around her neck, his legs around her torso, and clung tightly as she let go. With even, measured movements, she moved one leg at a time and made sure it was anchored before she moved the next. When they reached the top he collapsed onto his stomach on the ground with a sigh, then hummed in displeasure as she once again grabbed him by his collar - the closest equivalent to a scruff he could get - and dragged him farther from the edge. Once satisfied with the location, Rose let go and circled him several times before curling against him.

The Doctor found himself in a cocoon of thick, fluffy fur and warmth, protected from the immediate surroundings. He buried his face in her neck and his shaking hands into the fur of her back, hiding the tremors with scratches and pets. Rose was nuzzling his hair in a soothing manner, and it took a moment but he realized the soft rumbling in her chest was a lupine variation of a hum.

Ace arrived at the scene several minutes later and the closeness was suddenly no longer private, so he heaved himself to his feet and plastered on the biggest grin he could muster. There was the slightest sound of rustling behind him as Rose shifted, and a moment later her arms were around his torso as she braced her forehead between his shoulder blades. Despite himself, he leaned a bit into the embrace fully trusting her to be able to support him. 

“Does this mean we can help find the dragon?” Ace asked excitedly. 

“We just escaped a winter catalogue Nazi cult,” Rose said quickly before the Doctor could even open his mouth. “They were only interested in us. Malkon made it back to the ship unscathed, so don’t worry about me being a terrible influence on your impressionable baby brother Turlough.”

“Are they after the treasure too?” Peri asked. Rose shrugged. 

“Who knows. They wanted us to join them or y’know. Strange thing, though. The main bloke in charge, Kane? He knew what I was even before I changed into my pelt. Shifty eyes, that one. And he tried to hypnotize me, even added in some telepathic influence.”

“You’re hurt?” The Doctor said sharply, spinning in her embrace to cup her face with his hands. Rose bit her lip and gently lifted them away by the wrists, turning them palm-up. 

“No, but you are.” 

“They’re already healing.” 

“I can see that,” she said softly, running light fingertips over the numerous cuts on his cheek. “Doesn’t mean I like to see you hurting.”

“Adrenaline is numbing the pain,” he assured her with a grimace. “You said Kane telepathically-“

“I’m fine, not even a tickle of a headache to add to my migraine,” Rose muttered evasively. “We weren’t even remotely compatible. It was like waving at a amateur hand-scraped canoe from my yacht as it passed by.”

“Oh? I dread to think what ship comparison you’ll make for my own psychic imprint.”

“One of those sports line fishing boats that have the jet skis on the back of ‘em.”

“Oh. ...What? What does that even... mean??”

“Dragon?” Ace cut in pointedly, foot tapping. Annoyance and excitement held equal position in her impatience to get going. The Doctor blinked, as if realizing that there were - in point of fact - other people present, and sprang into action. 

“Right! Well, so far the map hasn’t led us wrong, so how’s about we keep following it?”

“Best news I’ve heard all day.” She paused, considering. “Wait, no. That’s a lie. Second best, after being told I was fired.” 

“I think there’s a ski lift type thing farther down the passage,” Turlough commented thoughtfully. “The map seems to be divided into levels, and that ravine _has to have _a bottom to it even though it doesn’t appear to. What we’re looking for is probably down there.”

“Joy,” the Doctor muttered sardonically. Rose came around and wrapped their fingers together in a tight grip and he sighed. “Oh, fine. Let’s take the rickety open-air transport.” They trudged toward the end of the balcony and entered into a narrow hall, the enclosing icy walls brushing their shoulders and giving Peri’s low claustrophobia an ego boost. Standing between them and their objective was a guard. 

“One of Kane’s men,” Rose whispered. She bit her lip, then grinned. They were fast approaching the man, and without warning she leaned up and planted a smacker on the Doctor’s lips. The action had two benefits; uncomfortable, the man avoided looking at them as they walked past, and the unexpected pressure silenced the surprised squeak that would have been the auditory response to Rose’s brashness. 

“Rose, what on _Earth _possessed you to do that!?” The Doctor gasped as she dragged him into the aged and quite honestly unsafe tram car. Peri, Turlough, and Ace had taken their seats far at the front, but since that offered a clear view of the seeming nothingness below them Rose sat at the far back. She patted the seat next to her and he sat, breathless. Not from lack of air, not with a bypass, and that tiny realization made her feel very satisfied indeed.

“No questions asked, yeah? Got us past without any trouble.” She shrugged, lightly tugging on his arm so that he draped it across her shoulders. She snuggled against his side with a contented sigh. “And it’s not like you’re _complaining_.”

“No no, far from it,” he rasped, unable to regain his composure. The tram rocked as it lifted out of dock and began a slow trek into the mists, prompting him to clutch at the edge of the seat with his free hand and draw in a shuddering breath. 

“You never told me it was this bad,” Rose whispered softly. “Just that you were afraid of heights.”

“It’s usually _not _this bad, but... being that close to... to falling, it’s near crippling right now,” the Doctor murmured back, slumping in his seat. “I relived it, you see. In my memories. I relived my last incarnation’s death as vividly as if it had been this body’s.”

“Your last incarnation’s death is this one’s rebirth,” Rose reminded him. “It makes sense that you’d be afraid of heights out of self-preservation to avoid falling to your death again.”

They fell silent after that, snuggling against one another. She to comfort, he to be comforted. Faintly, from the front, came a quiet but clear conversation.

_“I’ve never seen him like that before,”_ Peri said. She was barely audible. _“Vulnerable, sure. But never downright terrified like that.”_

_“Tegan told me his last self died from a fall,” _Turlough explained. 

_“What do you mean, ‘last self?’” _Ace asked, confusion evident.

“They are aware that both of us have superb hearing, yes?” The Doctor asked dryly. Rose snorted at that. The tram car jostled on it’s rusty overhead track and his grip on her tightened. 

“Come on,” Rose prompted, standing and sitting in his lap with her legs crossed perpendicular over his. Her right arm was slightly pressed against his chest as her torso twisted awkwardly in the position, the arm that had been draped over her shoulders now curving tightly around her back to support her. She freed her arm and used it to draw his head down, their foreheads touching lightly.

“It’s fine, really,” he assured with a strained voice. 

“Hey. If you fall, I’ll catch you,” she whispered. “I promise. You’ll never hit bottom with me around.” 

“There to pull me back up when I stumble?” He asked. 

“Something like that.” There was a reverence to the moment the didn’t require silence to be maintained. “I figured out what was causing my migraine,” Rose added with all the significance it dictated. 

“Not your blown out eardrums I take it?” The Doctor replied with a soft but bemused smile. He was curious, and his eyes widened as Rose slid her head slightly to the side so that their left temples were touching. 

The position of their heads was the equivalent of a tender but passioned kiss among touch telepaths, intimate but not indecently so. The forgoing of the use of hands for connection and the simple act of leaving nothing between two people but the superficial layers of skin, bone, and tissue protecting their brains... 

“Başlykhnaithe,” he murmured. 

“Gesundheit.”

“It means ‘completion’ of a telepathic kind. Romantic, but in the sense of being at one with your soulmate.” The Doctor drew a shuddering breath. “Rose, please tell me. Is the migraine my fault? Trying to get your mind to adapt to become compatible with mine?” 

“Yes, and before you start feeling all guilty, I think it’s worth it,” she breathed, placing a finger on his lips to stop him from speaking. “It’s my choice. You’re not making me do anything. Okay? Don’t feel bad for something I want too.” 

“Rose, can I...?”

“Go ahead.” 

Gently, the Doctor let himself reach for her mind and winced as he slipped against it, close to compatible but not quite there. Disappointed he withdrew; Rose’s mind, not accustomed to operating under such telepathic connections but trying to fit in with the perceived crowd, leapt forward to make the connection for him. 

The mental sensation was the equivalent of smashing their teeth together in a badly-coordinated kiss - or possibly a headbutt. They both flinched and Rose whimpered in discomfort, but after a few moments they both sighed as something... _clicked._

It was as if they were clinging on to one another by the thinnest strands of spider silk. Slowly, more strands wove around it, thickening it. It wasn’t a proper Empathic bond, but... it was certainly the makings of one. The beginnings of a spider web were connecting their minds at the basest of levels and the Doctor let out a breath of awe as he withdrew. 

Rose slipped out of his hold and into her own seat, and a few moments later he felt her as if on the other end of the latticework they were creating feeling it out. The nebulous web trembled at her touch and he shivered, their eyes meeting and holding. 

“You let me know if it becomes overwhelming,” the Doctor told her. Rose smirked and bit her lip. “...Of course, why should you do such a thing. It’s not as if I can’t withdraw or block the connection to help you.”

“And coddling me won’t help me get used to it,” she pointed out with a knowing smile. “I can handle it. If I can’t, then I’ll learn to. You need me to, and it sounds absolutely wonderful.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand what it was that drew you to me,” he murmured, a strange look on his face. It was an odd mix of humbled awe and something unidentifiable. “But I’ll thank my lucky stars it happened all the same.”

“Oi, lovebirds!” Ace shouted from the front of the tram, making them both jump. “I’ve got coffee up here in a thermos! Want some?”

“Sounds heavenly,” Rose groaned, standing and walking toward the others. The Doctor huffed softly with amusement before following. 

~§§~

When the car finally made it to the bottom of the ravine, it was to a world wrapped in chill misty fog. Slick ice underneath their feet stretched on for what seemed like miles, some parts of it covered by metal grating and others by chalky white powder. The place was a warren of tunnels filled with potentially-hungry and aggressive things, and the walk before them was narrow with paths splitting off like the Greek Labyrinth into the walls of the ravine. 

One of Rose’s ears flicked as she gazed directly upward, and the group paused to let her do whatever it was she was doing.

“Kane’s got men looking for us,” she explained after a short while. “They’re up at the spot where the railing gave out right now.”

“What, you can hear that from all the way up there??” Ace asked incredulously. 

“Honey, she could time their heart rates if she wanted to,” Peri laughed, slinging an arm over Turlough’s shoulders and grinning when he looked mildly uncomfortable but resigned to the tactile interaction. 

“If you say so Miss America,” Ace said with a shrug. “You and Coppertop good friends or what?”

“We call,” Turlough said easily. “Didn’t have much of a chance to get to know one another in person, but I left the day she started traveling with the pair of them so we commiserate.”

“Can’t be that bad hanging about with the Professor and Rose.”

“Wait, how come _she _doesn’t get a nickname?” Peri asked, raising an eyebrow and frowning. 

“Well, Roses are very pretty to look at, but if you touch the thorns you bleed,” Ace explained with a shrug. “She looks harmless enough, but she’s got fangs and claws. Her nickname _is _her name.”

“Inventive,” Turlough muttered, running his hands through his namesake and grimacing at the ginger tangles they came upon. 

“I could do a lot worse, Coppertop.” Something roared from farther up the cave and they all inhaled sharply, eyes straining to see in the soupy environment. 

“Uh, do we _have _to go forward?” Peri asked nervously. 

“Yeah... I know this was my idea, but I’m definitely regretting it by now,” Turlough sighed. He flinched, jumping back as they caught a flash of glistening ebony black scales reflecting the light off the ice in a blueish-white hue. A wing passed by and Rose let out a breath of wonder. The wing was shaped like a bat’s but was feathered like a bird’s, so that the bat wing looked like it was composed of a thousand iridescent dragonfly wings. They glittered beautifully in the ice-light, which reflected the rainbow of colors they gave off in their own personal Aurora Borealis. The colors danced across the slick walls. 

“Beautiful,” the Doctor murmured - and sincerely meant it. “Absolutely beautiful.” 

The long body of the creature finally moved past the shoulders, the dragonfly feathers compressing to fit inside a tunnel, and the sheer skinny length of the black serpentine body was astounding. It was a good five minutes before they saw the feet with their long black talons, and shortly thereafter the tail, which had a ridge of more dragonfly wings going down to the tip where they burst in another feathered array. Those, too, compressed as they slid into a tunnel, and the entire creature passed out of sight. 

“Wicked,” Ace breathed, grinning. 

“Yeah? Well... something wicked this way comes,” Rose warned, pointing upward. 

“You just _had _to quote the Scottish Play, didn’t you?” Turlough asked flatly. 

“It’s not like it can get any worse,” she scoffed as the massive, dragonfly-crested head of the dragon came down from higher up the ravine. The long talons of the front feet clung to the icy walls, the neck arched. Fangs and a forked tongue poked out of a long, thin maw, which was set underneath a pair of burning ice blue eyes. “It seems to be scenting the air.”

“That, or using its feathers like vibrational frequency sensors,” the Doctor pointed out; the crested head-feathers were trembling.

“I’m more concerned with whether or not it’s looking forward to a barbecue,” Peri whimpered, peering out from behind Rose’s shoulder. 

“It looks more curious than anything else, Peri. Though I concede your concern about the potential barbecue, I’m not entirely sure it actually wants to eat us.” 

“Why is it down here though?” Ace asked. “I mean, these tunnels are pretty small for something that big to fly around.”

“If I had to hazard a guess,” the Doctor began, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking slightly back on his heels, “I’d say that it sleeps down here and hunts at night. Nocturnal creature, black body. Well-camouflaged for a witching hour flight.”

“Could everyone _please _stop with the _Macbeth _quips?” Turlough sighed, then gulped as he slapped his hands over his mouth.

“Never took you for the superstitious sort, Vis,” Rose laughed.

“Hey, how come _Rose _can call you that but I can’t?” Peri complained. 

“Because she doesn’t listen when I tell her not to,” Turlough muttered, voice muffled by his hands but the annoyance clear in the way he rolled his eyes. “She only calls me that when she’s trying to get on my nerves.” 

“Only because you make it _way _too easy,” Rose retorted. Her gaze was locked with that of the dragon’s and she took a step forward as if transfixed. “I _think _that this gorgeous gal might be the only one of her kind.”

“Empathic communion?” The Doctor asked. She nodded, distracted, and raised a hand with the palm entirely flat. A few moments later, the dragon pressed her snout into her hand. “Oh, she likes _you_.” 

“Doesn’t she just... c’mere.” Rose grabbed him by the wrist and gently laid his hand next to hers. The dragon’s nostrils flared, hot air ruffling their hair, and they both grinned. “Hey, anyone else wanna give it a go?”

“No ta,” Turlough snorted, Peri shaking her head in a vigorous ‘no thanks.’

“Sure,” Ace said enthusiastically, walking over and allowing Rose to guide her. “Oh, that’s mega cool.” 

“Do you hate Kane?” Rose asked sweetly, outright giggling when the dragon huffed again as if in affirmative. “Yeah. He’s not a nice man. Not at all. Don’t blame you.”

A shot rang out from behind them, the laser blast searing a melted furrow in the ice wall, and the dragon reared upward. It let out a deafening roar before it’s maw split wide and the two men - Kane’s men - were caught in the blast of a breath so hot they were vaporized on the spot. Spears of ice dislodged from the ice wall from the blast turned projectile and embedded themselves at random in the general vicinity, and Rose dragged a startled Ace to the tunnel floor out of harm’s way of one as the rest of them dove for cover.

More of Kane’s men appeared and fired, aiming for both humanoid and dragon forms, and the dragon once again retaliated. It let out one final breath before climbing at a neck-breaking pace upward and propelled itself through a hole in the ceiling of the caves, presumably into the night air. Ice spewed everywhere, one of the projectiles catching the Doctor’s coat and tearing it as he stumbled with a cry of pain. 

It poured through his body, setting every nerve ending afire, and it took a few moments to realize that the pain wasn’t from an injury of his own person but that it was echoing back along the tentative empathic bond with Rose. He was just in time to see her grit her teeth and pull a long shard out of her shoulder; the pain eased and he was able to draw a full breath, as if something had released.

“We need practice,” he muttered. 

“Ya think!?” Rose shouted back from where she was slumped against a tunnel wall next to Ace. 

“There’s more of them, Doctor!” Turlough exclaimed. “What do we _do!?_”

A roar shook the very cave structure and from above came the answer, the black body and shining wings exploding into the fray once again. A single, powerful beat of those beautiful wings sent Kane’s men slamming into the nearest solid surface, and the dragon settled onto the floor of the main tunnel with a low and rumbling growl. 

“She wants us to follow her,” Rose breathed, swallowing. The dragon nodded, climbing higher onto the wall so that they could follow without hindrance from her long body, and they were led into a large cavern filled with towering crystal structures. Said structures seemed to resonate at particular frequencies, and they gaped in amazement as her crested dragonfly head-feathers ruffled. The light caught in them reflected in the crystals just as the sound they made was amplified and reproduced a thousand fold, and in the center of the room the reflections and amplifications collided into a single shimmering image of an old woman wearing a simple white dress.

_“Planetary Archives. Criminal History, segment 93-12-03. Two of the most vicious examples of the criminal mentality have been the leaders of the notorious Kane-Xana Gang. Until it’s demise, this gang carried out systematic violence and extortion unequaled in its brutality. In view of his crimes, Kane is to be exiled from the planet Proamon and never allowed to return home. He will be banished to the barren planet of Svartos, which has a permanently-frozen dark side on which he can survive. _

_“Kane’s partner, Xana, killed herself during the final siege of the gang’s headquarters to avoid being arrested and tried for her crimes.”_

The projection flickered as the woman gathered herself for the second part of her proclamation. 

_“If you are seeing this, then something has gone wrong. This communications terminal was installed on the off chance anyone tried to settle Svartos. Know that this security unit which has led you to this place was artificially made to protect any who might venture here from Kane. Her name is ‘Tresorrah,’ which in the language of the Proamon means ‘guardian.’ She is here to aid you in whatever way she deems worthy. _

_“Please, if it is not too late, return from whence you came and leave this place be. Let Kane rot for the rest of his wretched existence alone. If the hour of departure has passed, and Kane has risen to new and powerful heights, take whatever measures your people see fit to prohibit him from exacting his vengeance against _my _people. May the gods of Proamon watch over you.”_

“Well, _that _was cryptic,” Turlough muttered. He frowned. “Hang on, how can a synthetic being be empathic?”

“Easy enough Turlough,” the Doctor answered with a shrug. “If you think about it, all the brain really is is electrical signals being relayed through neurons and synaptic pathways. It’s all information.” 

“‘Tresorrah,’” Ace repeated, smiling. “Easy to see how the morons who made this dodgy old map could think the word was ‘treasure.’”

“Dragonfire. A powerful weapon against a species whom the ancient poets deem to have blood of water and hearts of ice, freezing all they come into contact with.” The Doctor pulled his hands out of his pockets and stretched a hand toward the dragon, who bowed her head. “The Proamon were a highly advanced race that died out about... ooh, at this point in the universe’s history? Two millennia ago.”

“What happened?” Peri asked, hugging herself tightly and snuggling against Turlough for warmth when she could no longer hide her chattering teeth. He looked discomforted but accommodating as a result. 

“What usually happens, Peri?” The Doctor sighed sadly. “War. They were invaded by a malevolent, locust-like species. They had few weapons, being a peaceful and prosperous world. In the end, the invaders sucked them dry of natural resources and moved to the next unwitting victim of their struggle to survive.” 

“That’s horrible.” 

“Tresorrah and Kane are all that remain of Proamon then,” Rose mused. “But he has way too many people- literally on ice- to simply want to run this colony. It’s an army. What for?”

“Well, I highly doubt Kane is aware of the status of his birth planet.” The hands went back in the trouser pockets as the pacing started up. “And Tresorrah here, _well_. If Kane could just get his hands on the Fire Crystal in her synthetic mind, the Dragonfire, he could apply it to a doomsday weapon if he wished.” 

“What happens when he finds out Proamon is gone?” The pacing abruptly stopped.

“Nothing good, Rose.” His eyes were serious, deep and suddenly centuries old as his shoulders slumped. “A tantrum thrown at another unfortunate world that caught his ire. Perhaps Svartos itself. He’s evil, and mad. And that’s not a good combination to have when such a person gets angry.” 

“Five minutes to midnight, then,” Peri sighed. 

“Isn’t it always?” Turlough pointed out. She shrugged. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The commentary about Time Lords having “double of everything” is a generally-accepted rule from Doctor Who Extended Universe, though it hasn’t been confirmed in either canon audio or the television series.
> 
> Başlykhnaithe - Gallifreyan (Author Created); Completion, of being at one with a significant other in the purest telepathic sense of the word; the concept of soulmates.
> 
> Derived from translations of similar meanings:  
-Críochnaithe - Irish  
-Başa - Azerbaijani  
-Lyktir - Icelandic
> 
> Please note that only the letters, not the pronunciation, was used. 
> 
> “Başlykhnaithe” is pronounced (BAH-SILL-LICK-NYE-THE) with stress upon the consonants and short, soft attention is paid to the vowels. In short, the vowels sound fast while the consonants are drawn out. 


	35. Dragonfire III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not that any of you cared, but I finished Star Wars: Jedi - Fallen Order before starting this chapter because a.) I was obsessed, b.) it’s the best game I’ve played since Assassin’s Creed Origins (we do not speak of Odyssey here), and c.) I was obsessed. I’d like to say that I didn’t want to divide my time between the two endeavors, but that would be a lie, and that’s a no no.
> 
> Anyway. If any of you have Spotify and want to get into the Big Finish Content, they were kind enough to upload tons of material onto Spotify. And I was OCD enough to take as much of it as I could find and put it into one big playlist, going by what seemed the most logical course of listening. The link is here to take you to that playlist, use it if you wish. It’s a wonderful way to dip your toes into the realm of Doctor Who Audio for the first time.
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/68dOXJeLlJN8SNzygv1fzD?si=D83tKaNITwOWh8zYGeZZzQ

“What do you think happens if Kane gets it? I mean, beyond total destruction of the universe as we know it,” Rose murmured. 

“Proamon...” the Doctor sighed, frowning as he paced and scrunched at the interior fabric of his trouser pockets with his fingers. “It sounds familiar, but I’m not sure when or where it was.”

“Is that important?” 

“Well, I‘ve told you the legends plain enough, but there’s still something I’m missing...” 

“We passed through something that looked like a chart of star constellations on our way down,” Rose suggested helpfully. “An ice garden? It was just after we got off the tram.”

“Yes... Most interesting sculpture-makers, these Proamons.”

“You two go, and we’ll look after the dragon,” Turlough suggested. He glanced at Ace and smirked. “I think _someone’s _quite taken with it.”

“Tresorrah’s fab, that’s why,” Ace countered without any bite behind it.

Worry filtered in over the strengthening empathic bond, causing the thin spider silk strands of their immaculate web to tremble, and the Doctor sighed softly. 

“Sounds like a plan,” he said, walking over and lightly resting a hand on Rose’s shoulder in a silent request to trust Turlough and Peri to watch after Ace. “Shan’t be long, though if I can’t find what I’m looking for we might have to go all the way back to the TARDIS to look at _her _charts.”

“Don’t hurry on our account,” Peri said dismissively, lightly running her hand over the dragon’s synthetic but life-like scales as her mouth dropped open slightly in awe. “Plenty to keep us occupied until you get back...”

The Doctor and Rose left, headed back toward the tram, and Peri leaned toward Turlough with a smile. 

“How much do you wanna bet they use the alone time to get in a good canoodle?” She asked. He raised an eyebrow.

“‘Canoodle?’ What’s that mean?”

“It’s like a snuggle, but with heavy petting involved.”

“Oh. Well, I’d say very likely.” Peri’s smile faded slightly and Turlough’s did too in response. “What is it?” She sat abruptly on a nearby rock with a huff and he followed her down. Ace, for her part, ignored them as she inspected Tresorrah’s iridescent wings.

“I’m thinking of dropping out of university. I just. I want to _travel_, you know? You go with the pair of them, it gets in your bones.”

“Know the feeling. So you’re planning on going with them full time now.”

“Not... exactly. The... danger. I can’t deal with that on a steady basis, I’m just not built for it. I was gonna travel the whole world before you pulled me out of the ocean and saved my life. I just hitched a ride after that.”

“And now you’re looking to do that again?” Peri grimaced and picked at a hangnail with dainty precision until she was able to pull it neatly off with her teeth in one quick, surgical tug. 

“Problem is, I have no money. And I don’t think I’m done with the stars yet, even if they’re done with me...”

“Or, you could travel with Malkon and I,” Turlough suggested pleasantly. “I enjoy our conversations when you call, and if you’ve survived this long with the Doctor and Rose then I know you’re made of tough enough stuff.”

“I... I dunno.”

“Just think it over. I don’t need an answer right now, but I’d prefer one before we leave.” His smile was utterly disarming and for once entirely genuine. “But if you need more time, just give me a ring and I’ll arrange to meet you all somewhere for a flight change. Okay?”

“...You’re a lot nicer than Rose makes you out to be,” Peri said after a few moments, smirking. He rolled his eyes, not rising to the bait, and huffed with exasperated amusement.

~§§~

“How’re you doing so far underground?” The Doctor asked once they’d gotten a fair distance away.

“Okay, I guess,” Rose answered with a shrug. “I feel tired, but that’s it. Maybe ice just isn’t as dense as rock, so it doesn’t present the same way.”

“Or something,” he sighed, frowning in confusion. A soft Gallifreyan expletive left his lips with the next exhale of breath. “Your species is very hard to take notes on. It would be a field guide bookmaker’s nightmare, let me tell you.” 

“Being needlessly complicated is one of the things you find attractive about me,” she teased in response, bumping their shoulders together. “Lord knows it isn’t my looks, you don’t go for that sort of thing.” 

“Ahm...” the Doctor coughed and furiously fought down - and lost against - a blush that spread rapid-fire from under the collar of his Oxford and up to his ears.

“What? What does that mean, huh?”

“I Ah, I’ll probably... be quite a bit more responsive now that we’ve formed an empathic bond,” he said awkwardly, ruffling the hair at the back of his head and sighing. “While Gallifreyans are capable of seeing and comprehending physical beauty, the main draw in most everything for us is telepathic. Even the more... ahem... you know. So, while I was aware you were very beautiful, it wasn’t until I was interested in a telepathic sense that I actually found you attractive in the physical sense.”

“You were attracted to my mind??” Rose asked, her nose scrunching up slightly as she attempted to understand. The Doctor’s head fell forward slightly, his eyes closing as he exhaled long and hard on a hum of appreciation, and her eyes widened. “...O-_Kay._..”

“You have a very tantalizing mental signature,” he sighed, a somewhat blissful and dreamy expression softening the entirety of his features. Rose frowned and grabbed the map from him, using both it and the lingering scent trail of the prior trip to guide them back to the ice gardens. He was a tiny bit useless at the moment, all glassy doe-eyed as he was. “Even being near it is like getting wrapped in golden sun-warmed honey that doesn’t stick and has the feeling of cashmere...”

“Standing next to you is like being in a multi-car pile-up on the motorway,” Rose muttered. “So many emotions and thoughts whizzing about all at once.” 

“Is it really that bad?” He asked weakly, looking very much like a kicked puppy.

“Not when my favorite song comes on the radio, and the day’s nice enough to have the windows down, and the pileup is in the opposite lane so the only thing I have to worry about is gawker delay... got nowhere to be, just me and my tunes with a heavy dose of absolute chaos in the peripheral.” Affection washing over the beginnings of the bond accompanied that statement and he beamed at her with unrestrained happiness. The sight of it made her chest ache with how beautiful it was when he was rarely relaxed enough to truly smile that way.

“Most people just say I’m annoying,” he hummed cheerfully.

“Well, that too.”

“Oi!” 

“It’s through here,” Rose laughed, pointing. They came upon a planetarium-type room, the ceiling sparkling with the stars of an unfamiliar quadrant of the Milky Way Galaxy. Everything was awash in soft silver light, the perfect ice sculptures of what must have been Proamon flora immaculately crafted to look like crafted sugar flowers and vines. They were in a veritable botanical garden that looked as if it had stepped out of a catalog for expensive wedding cake designs. Silvery grass dusted with frost crunched underneath their feet, and grinning Rose pulled the Doctor down beside her as they laid on their backs and looked up at the cave ceiling. 

“A red star, explains why Proamon would be so chilly,” she murmured, pointing. He hummed and pointed at another star constellation. 

“All of these are slightly out of alignment from their current positions,” he explained, twining their free hands together habitually and resting them on his chest. “It’s at least two, though I’m more inclined to say somewhere around three, thousand years old.” 

“You seem to know a lot about Proamon.”

“Not as such. I came across a poem collection about eternal winter recently when cleaning out the library. It came from there, found it an interesting read. Fancied taking a trip there soon, if I’m to be honest, to sample some of the local peace and _the _best hot chocolate sold south of Mutter’s Spiral. Of course, we’d have to go several millennia before it became too cold for even _my _physiology to handle.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Rose murmured. “It’d be a good first trip for Ace, and I’m sure Peri would love it. Might even get Turlough and Malkon to stick around a little bit longer if we promise to pick up the cocoa tab.” One of her ears twitched and she stiffened. “And we’re not alone here.” 

“I hear it too, the tram coming down,” the Doctor whispered. 

“Think it could be Kane’s men, to kill Tresorrah?”

“Or Kane himself, though I feel as if he’s not the type to get his hands dirty unless he’s certain of winning.” 

“Either way, we need to move.”

“Agreed.” With all undue urgency, they sprang to their feet and dashed toward the closest hiding place as the tram docked nearby in it’s station. The space was extremely tight, and even accustomed to a certain level of intimacy as they were it was still uncomfortable, so Rose sighed and shifted so that she could crouch low to the ground between his legs and give them both the space they needed to pay full attention to the unexpected arrivals. 

His ankle brushed her flank as he steadied his posture and a soft hum of apology emanated from his lips before they both went entirely silent, gases locked on the two massive guns Kane’s right hand woman Belazs and another lackey were carrying. The firepower in one alone would be more than enough to compromise Tresorrah’s thick scales, especially since it wasn’t fire but ice that sprayed from such devices. 

On any other planet they’d be considered industrial fire extinguishers, ready to put out an entire building at a moment’s notice, but here... 

“The radio frequency leads this way,” the man said, walking past their location.

“Kane did say he’d spotted trespassers in the lower security feeds,” Belazs mused. “Very well, continue on.”

“Ma’am.” 

“Now hold on a moment,” the Doctor protested, stepping swiftly into view and flinching when they leveled their weapons on him. “That dragon should be protected. Truly, it’s a work of art. Nothing ever built quite like it before or since.”

“And who are you?” Belazs asked flatly. 

“I’m the Doctor. And this...” he smirked as Rose slowly approached with her hackles raised and a snarl in her bared fangs, “is Rose. Care to negotiate?” 

“We’re the ones with the firepower,” the man snapped, though he fearfully aimed the gun - it was more like a cannon really - at Rose. 

“And it seems we’re at an impasse. Tell me, why _did _you decide to work for Kane?” 

Belazs’ gun lowered ever so slightly as she took in the question, a contemplative look crossing her face.

~§§~

Guarding the dragon had turned out to be ridiculously easy. After all, the most capable thing when it came to protecting all of them was the dragon itself, so they really only just sat there waiting for Rose and the Doctor to return. Of course, it was a welcome respite for the two humans and the Trionite who were frozen stiff. The dragon emitted heat from its dark scales, and after a good long amount of time they had all moved to snuggle against its flank underneath one of its massive wings to conserve warmth. 

Such was the situation that it took a few moments for Ace to stir from her nap at the familiar chilling voice and she remained behind the protective screen of Tresorrah’s wing, risking discovery to peer slightly around it and inhaling sharply at the sight of Kane.

“At long last, my old enemy,” he laughed softly. Tresorrah growled warningly, the icicles hanging from the cavern’s ceiling shivering at the vibrations. “Oh, don’t be like that. We all know you have no real power here, not with your precious innocents in need of protection.” His gaze zeroed in on Ace in her hiding spot. She swallowed and edged back, flinching at the snicker it elicited from the man. 

Peri and Turlough, who were under the wing on the creature’s other side, were viewing the situation with much the same apprehension as Kane paced about the cavern. 

“Give up the Dragonfire, Tresorrah. You come from a bygone time. Give me what I want, and these... creatures... shall be spared. My revenge matters far more than any temporary nuisance.”

“The dragon ain’t the only thing that’s got a bite mate!” Ace shouted, tossing the last of her stash of Nitro 9 toward him. He dove away as they exploded with a loud bang, and the dragon let out a shriek as it lifted its wings and beat them furiously through the air. The mist of melted ice and the smoke of the canisters abruptly cleared, and a searing bolt of white ice blasted outward, striking her directly in the chest. With a roar, the dragon rose into the air and smashed through the ceiling with a bellow of bright fire from its maw and disappeared from sight, taking a screaming Peri and Turlough with it as they clung to the creature’s foreleg. 

“That wasn’t very wise,” Kane hissed, grabbing Ace by the arm. Even through the thick fabric of her coat, she shivered at the painfully-cold icy grip. 

A few minutes of terrified movement ended with Peri, Turlough, and Tresorrah all several levels of the colony higher than they had been previously. The dragon shook them off with a light but firm flick of her leg, sending them sprawling onto the floor, and they switched from clinging to her scales to clinging to one another as she let out a pained roar and slumped onto the icy ground. Her long neck arched up and inward so that she could get a good look at the damage done to her chest, and with an angry growl she blew soft red flames evenly over the surface for an extended period of time. 

The frost burn slowly melted to reveal damaged scales underneath, and Tresorrah made another pass with her breath.

“I think she’s trying to heal herself,” Turlough murmured speculatively, panting as he tried to catch his breath. His voice was hoarse from all the screaming he’d just done, and from Peri’s ragged breaths at his side she was in the same boat.

“You think Ace will be okay?” She asked.

“I think Rose won’t give Kane an option on that front. They may be sworn cosmic enemies by hereditary default, but Ace seems like a nice person and Rose is very protective of people she’s traveling with. And there’s no way she and the Doctor didn’t feel the entire planet tremble when we broke through _solid rock and ice_.”

“I just wish I knew what they were doing...”

~§§~

The Doctor stumbled as the floor beneath them shook; Rose immediately wrapped herself around his legs to keep him upright, and he stifled a laugh when he saw the state she was in. 

Her fur was entirely on end, just one major bushy ball of honey gold, and she was staring at the ground in well-deserved alarm. Belazs and her subordinate had lost their balance entirely and were sprawling on the ground in a heap, weapons cast to the side.

They’d been in negotiations with the pair, as it seemed that making life pacts with Kane was the equivalent of making a deal with the devil, and the Doctor had promised to break the symbolic link that had been seared into their palms with his sonic screwdriver. They’d been hesitant, of course, but he’d been talking them round. There had been no need to assert dominance with Rose standing quietly beside him like an ethereal guardian spirit, so he had not bothered, and the effect had been mostly positive.

“The dragon!” Belazs shouted, hefting up her gun and struggling to her feet. She kicked the toe of the man she was with with annoyance. “Oh, get _up _Xochtz.”

“I’m not going after that!” Xochtz protested. “Are you _insane!?_”

“I have my duty!”

“Which I remove!” The Doctor reminded, switching to the dermal regenerator setting and letting the device whir temptingly. Belazs turned towards him with a tired sigh as her compatriot rose on shaky legs to peer out from behind her. “Kane needs to be stopped. He’s already sent mercenaries to terrorize this colony for ages past, and he’ll do it again. His megalomania knows no bounds.” 

“I tried to stop him once,” Belazs whispered. “Recently. And all I received for my efforts was pain. My co-conspirator was rewarded with death.” 

“If he gets control of the dragon’s treasure, it’s over for Svartos, for the entire quadrant. Don’t you see that?” 

“And you?” Belazs asked, looking to Rose. “What do you say?” After a few moments of hesitation, Rose shifted into her bipedal form and lightly wound her arm around the Doctor’s in solidarity, resting her head on his shoulder. “I see.” 

“Our friends are down there, and they could be hurt or dead. But we need to stop Kane to either help them or avenge them before we can look for them, and they deserve not to wait a second longer than is necessary.” Her gaze was steady as she stared back into Belazs’ eyes. “So will you help us?”

“I want to be free,” Belazs said after a few moments of pensive silence. She held her hand palm open and up toward the Doctor, who quickly soniced the scar tissue before she could change her mind. It seemed to melt into the regular flesh, leaving nothing more than an indistinguishable slightly pink spot in the middle of her palm that slowly faded away. Xochtz I turn held his hand out in the same manner and received the same treatment, and both of them took off their helmets. “Thank you.”

_“Oh, Doctor? You and the Letoan have something I want, and I have something to give in return.” _Kane’s voice echoed over a speaker system and the sound of Ace struggling in his grasp was audible. “_Bring me the Dragonfire, or your friend dies.”_

“Your planet was destroyed over two millennia ago, Kane!” The Doctor retorted, turning the sonic against the speaker and making it into a receiver. “You have nothing left to exact your revenge upon!” 

_“Don’t I? I have this... _charming _little Earth girl here, and my men can quickly turn from terrorizing the local populace to killing them. I have more than enough leverage, and if what you say is true then I have more than enough about me to exact my vengeance. I may be exiled here Doctor, but over the years I have assembled a very advanced weapons system. It can either self-destruct or fire at long range. Which do you prefer?”_

“Neither,” the Doctor growled,” ending the conversation by making the speaker short-circuit. It erupted in a shower of sparks and when he turned to formulate a plan with Rose he found that she had already shifted into her pelt and was pacing farther up the tunnel. “Time to end this.”

“You might need these, then,” Belazs pointed out, hefting the gun. “They fire ice at perfect cold, but I’m sure that device of yours could switch the wires.” 

“Doesn’t work like that I’m afraid, though I appreciate the thought,” he called as he raced after Rose. She’d decided she could wait no longer and had run off for the command center. 

“We should probably follow them,” Xochtz sighed after a few minutes. 

“Of course. But after a suitable amount of time. It wouldn’t do to show up while the man’s still walking about now, would it?”

“...I... suppose not.” 

“Rose, wait!” The Doctor called, panting. Yet again he cursed her ridiculous speed and tried in vain to catch up before she made it to the tram, but as it was he barely got inside the door before the automated process closed it. She was inside, pacing from front to back, and he had to scramble entirely onto a seat to avoid her tripping over him. “Hey. Calm. _Down._” 

Rose let out a huff, her tail swishing with great aggravation as she whined, her claws unsheathing and sheathing and her ears flicking as she paced. He sighed, sinking down onto his knees on the floor, and reached out mentally to tug firmly on the bond. She stopped abruptly, surprise rippling back toward him, and came over to lay on the floor. He cupped his hands on his thighs and she slid her snout into them, whining and staring up at him with puppy dog eyes. 

“It’s going to be okay,” the Doctor said soothingly, rubbing circles just under her eyes with his thumbs. “Why are you so anxious anyway? If it were Peri or Tur- oh. You’re worried she’ll join him. Rose, whatever a person is predisposed to do, I believe that, ultimately, it’s up to them who they become. Take Pieter Stubbe for example. You and him? You’re the same species, or you were before he became Earthbound. And he was evil incarnate. If Ace is supposed to be a product of Fenric, of evil, then who’s to say she can’t be as good as you? And look at me. I’m breaking every social custom my people set down just by interacting with you, let alone l-“ 

He cut himself off, unwilling to go further. They’d only been dating three weeks, and even _he _knew that was far to early to tell someone you loved them. Except...

It hadn’t been three weeks, had it? They’d been together for over ten years as the best of friends, pining after one another in love and oblivious for a few of those. They had an empathic bond, or the beginnings of one, and it was painfully obvious how far his affections went for her, and that she matched it in like kind. So...

“Let alone _loving you,_” he finished, staring deeply into her eyes and watching them widen as unconditional love blasted through the connection from both sides. “She’ll be fine,” he whispered. “And it’s not as if your pacing will speed the tram up. It’ll just make us both miserable. So, please. Just calm down.” 

Rose stretched up and nuzzled against the underside of his jaw, her lupine version of a kiss that she only reserved when she truly meant it rather than the playful tongue swipes she made across the top of his nose. After a few moments she let out another small whine and crawled into his lap, very much the world’s biggest lapdog, and he let out an ‘oof’ as she accidentally pressed against his stomach and had his back smacking into the edge of a seat. 

They were silent the rest of the way up, and though she clearly wanted to dash ahead Rose allowed him to let his hand rest between her shoulder blades as they walked, fingers bunching in her hackles. 

As they entered the control room, the only warning the Doctor got that she was about to bolt was a brief flash of apology over their bond. Suddenly she was pulling away, claws unsheathed as she launched herself straight at Kane. Ace shrieked and ducked as his attention diverted, scrambling out of the way as the pair collided and went rolling across the floor. She ran and he met her, holding her tightly before shoving her directly behind him and taking stock of the room. Rose could handle herself, though that did nothing to temper his anxiety as the sounds of the fight reached him in peripheral background. 

The entire place was a hodge-podge of different technological eras spanning the last three thousand years, coming from several different planets and systems but all being built into something distinctly Proamon. It was a war bunker, plain and simple, built to be powered by a Dragonfire crystal and to serve a single destructive purpose bent solely on revenge. As plots went, it was pretty standard and, well, petty. There were a multitude of other things Kane could have-

Rose yelped in pain and the Doctor turned abruptly to see what was going on, entire frame tensing with building anger when he saw that Kane had put his hands on her, and that they were so cold they were burning her. Rose retaliated by clamping her teeth around Kane’s arm and bit down hard, squirming in what must have been agony as he kept one hand pressed against her flank. Where the other had been was a bald spot in the perfect shape of a handprint, the skin underneath badly burned but already healing. 

A growl rumbled deep in her throat, the floor shaking underneath their feet, and Kane cried out as her pelt glowed golden. Unlike other occasions where it had done so, it sent out a pulse of light that swept the room in honey-colored dust that struck everyone squarely in the chest. 

A warmth settled, it seemed, in the Doctor’s hearts, and he let out a breath before forcing himself to relax. Ace seemed to squirm with discomfort pressed close as she was against his side seeking safety, but Kane screamed. Rose let go of his arm abruptly and slumped against the floor as the man stumbled away clutching at his ribs, screaming as golden energy seemed to eat its way out of him and engulf him from within. With a last cry he fell to his knees and crumbled to dust on the floor, leaving nothing but ash and soot in his wake. 

The Doctor rushed over and came into a skid on his knees beside her as Rose shifted into human form, practically throwing herself into his arms and allowing him to comfort her.

“What was that?” He rasped, frantically running his fingers through her tangled hair.

“The Judgement of Leto,” she panted, eyes reflecting an odd, glassy quality to them. Her voice was dual-toned, and all in all it was quite obvious she wasn’t entirely herself yet. “And he was found wanting.”

“For what?”

“Good.” 

~§§~

They took the TARDIS to Proamon several millennia before the planet turned too cold for them to survive on, dragging Turlough and Malkon’s ship behind them through the vortex. With the promise of putting it back exactly where they’d found it. With Kane gone Belazs and Xochtz were going to take over the management of Iceworld and keep it above board under threat from Tresorrah, and they found themselves in need of a little holiday. Ace and Malkon had run off somewhere to play festival booth games, and as for Rose and the Doctor...

“I really don’t think this is necessary,” the Doctor protested as Rose pulled him across the ice. His species might have had superior balance over humans, but he still wobbled dangerously on the thin blades of his skates. She merely laughed and moved in close, so that their arms were wrapped tightly around one another, and he sighed in relief as she took much of his weight in her stride to let them slowly glide across the huge rink. 

“I made a promise that I’d teach you,” she replied gently. “Oh, and Doctor?”

“Hmm?”

“Love you too.” 

Their fresh empathic bond sparkled with happiness as she kissed him, and they skated on oblivious of their audience.

_“I think they’ll be just fine without me,” Peri said quietly, leaning on a railing and sipping at her hot chocolate. Turlough nodded in the affirmative and took a long pull from his own cup. _

_“Doesn’t mean they won’t miss you. And, hey. Say the word, and we’ll call to pop by for a visit and an adventure for old times’ sake.”_

_“I’d like that.” They both smiled as the objects of their interest stopped talking and kissed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen either of them so happy.”_

_“The Doctor and Rose Tyler, in the TARDIS.”_

_“Stuff of Legends,” Peri decided, knocking her to go cup against Turlough’s in a toast. “As it should be.”_

_“To new beginnings,” he added. “For all of us.”_

_“And may they be smooth sailing, wherever we end up.”_

_“...You do realize you’ve just jinxed every single one of us, right?” She grimaced, nodding._

_“...Yeah...”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UP NEXT: SURVIVAL.
> 
> Just to be clear: I don’t ship Turlough/Peri, but I am of the firm opinion that they would be one of the best Disaster Bestie platonic couples out there. They both operate under the motto “I know this is a bad idea but I lack impulse control and my friend said it would be a good experience. I highly doubt that, but you underestimate the lengths I’m prepared to go to to say ‘I told you so.’ I’m passive-aggressively petty that way.”


	36. Survival I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that “Survival” was the very last episode ever aired of Classic Who in 1989. It would later be followed by the short and very non-canonical story “Dimensions in Time,” which was a Children in Need special for the 30th Anniversary, in 1993, and the “Doctor Who” American made for TV movie in 1996. As you all know, New Who would follow its predecessor in 2005 after a nearly fifteen year long hiatus away from BBC television. 
> 
> Talk about the persistence of the fandom, eh? During that time countless novels were written, and in 1998 Big Finish Audio came out with the Doctor Who Main Range series which featured Doctors 5-8. We truly are a dedicated group of people, and I love coming together with others and connecting through it. 
> 
> But, anyway. Onto the scheduled programming.
> 
> So. Quick disclaimer before I start writing. While I loved the premise of this story, I felt that the execution was a tiny bit rubbish. So, I’ll be breaking it down to its base structure and then building it back up. 
> 
> PART 1 OF 3.

The Doctor was asleep. And, if Rose couldn’t have figured that out by the way the book he’d been reading fell slack from his fingers as they lay together under a cozy blanket in the library quietly cuddling, or the fact that his voice had tapered off before ceasing entirely, she would have been able to sense it through their empathic bond. 

His mind seemed to have gone uncharacteristically quiet, soft emotional shifts and hums of semi-awareness as he dreamed about something, and she wondered what he dreamed about. He’d mentioned once that Gallifreyans had the ability to process their surroundings like recording video while they slept, alerting them to things that had gone on while they were ‘out,’ but that only made her wonder if they took catnaps one which they were entirely aware of their surroundings but chose not to interact with it.

On this occasion, there was no doubt in her mind that he was dreaming something rather than remembering or processing the environment. His emotional responses weren’t directed at anything in the immediate vicinity, and the way his entire body tensed as distress filtered through the bond instantly put her on alert. 

Two days ago, they’d been on Proamon and Peri had said goodbye. It seemed to trigger something, because he’d defaulted to the reclusive tendencies he’d exhibited before he’d realized Rose was staying for good. This cuddle in the library had been the first time in those two days that she’d managed to permanently root him out from under the control console, and there was no way she was going to let some stupid dream spoil it.

The Bond was still solidifying and strengthening as her mind adjusted, but newfound instincts dictated that she comfort him, so she tentatively swept her mind in a gentle caress against his and projected as much peace and calm that she could. He let out a soft, scared whimper and curled himself ever more tightly around her. 

Rose bit her lip and snuggled against the Doctor’s chest as his arms held her flush against him, all but soaking the bond in ‘I’m here, I’m not going anywhere,’ and with a sigh he eventually relaxed his hold and settled into a much more loose napping position on the library couch. His legs were propped up on an ottoman, hers folded underneath her, and she nuzzled at his temple with her nose. 

He drifted back toward peaceful slumber and she heaved a sigh of relief, only to shriek when the door to the corridor slammed open and Ace shouted for them. 

“Rose, Professor! I- oh...”

“Aaah!” The sudden noise had him springing into an alarmed, defensive stance and vaulted Rose off his lap and halfway across the room; he wasn’t anywhere close to her subtle brute strength, but Gallifreyans were still ridiculously strong compared to humans when they exerted said strength in full, and it was only by shifting in the air that she managed to land with an unsteady wobble on all four paws. She shifted back just as quickly to see a sheepish Ace watching them. 

“Ace!” Rose complained, wincing as she worked the kink out of her neck and quickly padded back over to the couch, pressing herself against the Doctor’s chest and anchoring him as he shuddered with an influx of adrenaline. “Do you have _any _idea how hard it is to get him to sleep? You’d have a better shot at winning the lottery!” 

“I’m not _that _bad,” he protested, sighing. He extricated himself from her embrace and went looking for his shoes. “What is it, Ace?”

“We’re not done with this conversation, mister,” Rose warned darkly, pointing her finger at him as she stalked over to the fireplace and extinguished the flames. 

“I was wondering if we were going anywhere any time soon,” Ace asked, watching the minor spat with wide eyes. “But uh, if this is a bad time-“

“No, no, it’s fine.” The Doctor finally located his shoes and slipped his foot into one, hopping on the other as he argued with the laces. “I was thinking we could drop by Perivale, pick up anything you would have liked to have taken with you when that Time Storm swept you up.” He succeeded with the first shoe and paused to snap his fingers at her before starting on the other. “And while we’re at it, I can do several scans to identify the category of Time Storm and figure out if it was simulated or natural. Both are equally rare.”

“Wha- what’s it mean if it was simulated?” Ace asked, a rare bit of genuine nervousness making its way past the unruffled exterior. The Doctor looked up, entirely serious for once, an expression that was almost absurdly comical by the way he’d twisted his body to balance and tie his second shoe. 

“It means someone wanted you on Iceworld,” he said, brow pinching ever so slightly with worry. “I can’t see your timelines, Ace, and I should be able to. It’s like they’re shrouded.”

“Hold on, you can _see _my timelines??”

“Well, I’m not called a Time Lord because I’m good at repairing clocks,” he retorted sarcastically as he swept out of the library and headed to the console room. “Get your bag, and we’ll gather your things.”

“Ace!” She ran in the opposite direction, toward her room. The Doctor groaned as he entered the console room and saw Rose leaning on the wall beside the exterior doors. 

“Can we not do this now?” He asked petulantly, flicking switches and pressing buttons. He heard rather than saw her push off the wall and follow him. 

“You weren’t this way with Mags,” she said carefully, voice low. It was accusative, but he knew her well enough to know it wasn’t against him but rather whatever had triggered his abandonment anxiety. And trigger it it did.

“Peri was different,” he sighed, hands stilling and coming to splay on the console as he watched the short rotor chug up and down in its center. “She wasn’t around the entire time, but whenever she called we’d swing by and take her for an adventure. It was... 

“Mags was temporary, Rose. That’s the thing. All three of us knew that eventually she’d be leaving. There was an end in sight, even if we didn’t know how long the journey was to get there. But Peri...“

“Ever since we lost Turlough, there’s been a constant,” Rose realized. “Nine years in our timeline that matched up to Peri’s three. Nine years of not having someone leave.”

“Longest it’s been since Susan, someone traveling with me,” he admitted. “And since U.N.I.T., when I truly began to develop such a bad case of abandonment anxiety... Jo hit me hard when she left. I wasn’t... I wasn’t even able to be present at her wedding. It hurt too much, like... if I attended, it would be the final nail in the coffin. Saying goodbye to Mags was difficult, but I’d been prepared for it.”

“And then, out of nowhere, Turlough shows up, and it’s like we’re one big happy family. And then Peri leaves with him.” 

“To use a human phrase, ‘it came out of left field,’ and I wasn’t in any way prepared for it,” he muttered. The TARDIS stilled and materialized with only the softest of tremors through the solid grey floor and he allowed himself a single small, proud smile. “Hear that? You’re progressing quite nicely in your maintenance lessons. Old Girl hasn’t run this smoothly since before she was put in the decommissioned section of the dry docks.” 

“I have a very good teacher,” Rose whispered, sliding in between him and the console and resting her chin in the center of his chest. When the Doctor looked down her face was only centimeters from his. “What was your nightmare about?”

“I... I saw Adric,” he admitted, shoulders slumping as he drew in a shuddering breath. “He was at the end of a corridor, and no matter how fast I ran... I couldn’t catch him. You helped, by the way. Just in case you were wondering. When you reached out to calm me, he slowed and turned to face me.” His eyes shut tight and the in-drawn breath exhaled harshly. “When Ace threw the door open, my mind attributed the loud sound to an explosion. He turned, and looked at me, and I had to look into his eyes as he was engulfed by flames.” 

“Which is why I got projectile-launched off the couch,” Rose summarized with an exasperated eye roll. “And you were an adrenaline-shaken mess.” 

“I’m built for a slightly larger, family-oriented ship crew in this incarnation,” the Doctor explained. “In my last body Adric was like a ward. And, well, I regenerated younger. I wasn’t the father figure he’d been looking up to any longer because I looked only twice his age rather than the age of a parent. Ironically, I was more inclined to discipline him as a guardian should a ward of unruly attitude. We... clashed. He felt he no longer had to listen to me- not that he really ever did in the first place mind- and he outright said that my... current... disposition was less mature than the last one. In some ways, I suppose he was right, but in others...” 

“You fought before...?” Rose trailed off, unable to finish the question, but her eyes sparked with surprise. 

“And while I apologized, he didn’t seem to feel a need to. It’s- it’s one of my biggest regrets, that we couldn’t resolve our differences before... before he... died.” The Doctor cleared his throat several times and his voice still came out thick with emotion when he spoke again. “It was an argument over being ignored, but I was trying to balance attention between three people and he was used to being the center of attention to adults, even on his home planet. I also had the audacity to tell him ‘no’ on more than one occasion. And he said he wanted to return to E-Space, and went to the trouble of making all those calculations only to say he would hold on to them after I’d apologized.”

“Wait wait wait, let me, let me just-“ Rose exhaled through her nose and collected her thoughts. “So, he subtly implied he preferred your last incarnation over your current one, than sor’ of intended to blackmail you by holding the threat of leaving over your head. And _you _were the one that had to apologize!?”

“He was just a boy,” the Doctor sighed, clearly upset. “He was barely fifteen, if even that, when it happened.”

“That’s not an excuse!” Rose argued. “He hurt you, badly, and when you made the first move toward reconciliation he didn’t bother to accommodate!” Her eyes blew wide with realization and she gently pushed him away so that they could more clearly see one another without fully letting go. “And that’s why it hurts so bad. Because he went to his death and you’ll never know if he was actually still angry with you, and if he actually _did _prefer your other self or not. You’ll never know if the two of you could have become close again despite that.”

“Tegan often expounded upon the untold cosmic powers pertaining to the word ‘if,’” he said with a sort of broken but reminiscent smile. “She didn’t bother to explain how it could so heavily burden a person with regret.” 

“You wonder if we hadn’t met Turlough on Svartos, would Peri still be with us. If Turlough hadn’t met Malkon, would he be here too.”

“And if whether or not Ace was manipulated into joining us,” the Doctor pointed out before frowning. “She’s taking an awful long time to get ready for a quick pick-up trip, isn’t she?” 

“Just so you know, I recognize the change of topic and I’m allowing it,” Rose commented with a knowing sigh before shrugging. “I mean, I _guess _it’s been a while. What’s up with her timelines, exactly?”

“I can’t see them, and I’m supposed to be able to,” he breathed worriedly, pulling up the scanner and setting it to detail latent readings on the last remains of the Time Storm. “They’re shrouded, which usually means we’re approaching a fixed point and it involves me personally...”

“What do mine look like?”

“Yours? Oh, I haven’t been able to see yours for years,” came the amused but dismissive reply. It was even complete with a hand wave; he didn’t bother looking up from his scans. “You’ve traveled with me for so long that they’re very tightly paralleled to mine. To be able to see yours would allow me to extrapolate guesses pertaining to my own future. Which, again, I’m unable to see lest I change something that shouldn’t be changed.” 

“Ah. Cheers, mate.” Rose rolled her eyes at the needlessly-complicated answer and eased herself off the console where she’d been leaning. “Well, while you finish up those scans I’ll see what’s taking Ace so long, yeah?”

“Knock yourself out...” 

“Rude.” She bit her lip and nudged his shoulder with her nose, a silent request to be held, and with a confused blink the Doctor accommodated her. Her fingers trailed up over his jaw and rested lightly underneath his chin. “Hey. I’d like to meet Ian and Barbara when this is done. Take a visit to Alistair.”

“Why?” Her gaze was steady as she held his. 

“You don’t go back, because once they’re gone you can never see them again. But Doctor. You _can _see them again. You can spend so much time with them before they’re gone. Believe me, I know the pain you want to avoid. But you can only guess at it.”

“Rose...”

“I can never see my mother again, or my childhood best mate. Regret, Doctor. You know that pain, from Adric.”

“What exactly are you trying to-“

_“Don’t mourn the dead before they’ve been buried,”_ she whispered, tears pricking her eyes. Immense pain, more unfathomably worse than he could ever imagine watching a friend die would spawn, exploded across the bond and he flinched. Tears pricked her eyes and his thumb brushed them away as his breath came in ragged pattern. 

“You miss her,” he whispered. “More than you could possibly have expressed in words that all fall terribly short.”

“Don’t,” she murmured, throat tight with emotion. “Don’t be like me. Learn from that. It’s worse to never make the happy memories you can cherish once someone is gone than to lose them in the first place.” 

“I’m sure the Chestertons would love to meet you.” A soft smile graced her lips as she chuckled, curling her knuckles and running them over his smooth facial features.

“Well, you’re gonna have some explaining to do before that.” He echoed the small chuckle and tiny smile, ducking his head with sheepish agreement, and looked up as she stepped away toward the corridor. “Promise?”

“I may not be able keep them for others, but it always seems to be an Unbreakable Vow when it comes to you.” He paused to take a breath and summon his courage. “After Perivale. We can visit Alistair and see Ian and Barbara.” 

“Thank you.” Rose exited the console room and left him to his scans, sauntering down the hall as she went looking for Ace. 

The girl was in her room, sitting on the edge of her bed with a sad but resigned expression on her face, so Rose knocked on the doorframe and waited for her to look up.

“Hey, we’ve arrived. You okay?”

“Just waiting for you to dump me as soon as I go out of sight of the TARDIS,” Ace said bitterly, a soft and teenage annoyance in the glare she levied at Rose. 

“Do you... hate me, or something?” Rose asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms. “Because one, we’re not dumping you, and two, I was hoping the two of us could... I dunno, bond or something? Human gal to human gal? I love the Doctor to bits, but I need some ‘non-oblivious to human culture norms Time Lord’ interaction every once in a while.” Ace blinked, mouth falling open slightly, before she closed it again and groaned as she flopped indelicately backward onto the bed and let her head hit her pillow.

Her ponytail billowed out in a messy, tangled fan as she closed her eyes and patted the edge of the bed, fingers bunching in the homemade-looking quilt. Rose sat on it stiffly, hesitant to make herself comfortable, and surveyed the room. All in all it was homey yet bare, small yet functional. The quilt on the bed wasn’t the manufactured kind, and the TARDIS seemed to have taken the odd extra step of adding in a simulated window that showed some obscure street on Earth. The walls were that weird eggshell blue color, the carpet looking as if it couldn’t decide on whether it wanted to be yellow, red, or green and ending up as a mix simulating confetti. 

It wasn’t in any way what Rose imagined Ace would have chosen for herself.

“Ace?”

“Mm?”

“Your room. It doesn’t seem like something you’d...”

“Oh. No, this was the room I had at home.” She huffed and sat back up, gesturing to the window. “Even the view of the street.”

“I don’t see any posters,” Rose said carefully. Something in Ace’s expression shuttered and she kicked at the shag carpet with a foot before standing and walking toward the door.

“Yeah, well, when your mum won’t let ya put ‘em up...” she paused out in the corridor and sighed. “I’m not interested in grabbing anything from home. I just. I want to tell my mates I’ll be gone for a bit, ya know? Don’t want ‘em to worry. Sure you’ve done the same.”

“When I left home it was a hurried goodbye and shoving whatever I could into a rucksack... I had someone after me, someone bad. And I had to tell my mum to say goodbye to my best mate for me. They’re... all dead now.”

“What, all of them?” Ace exclaimed, eyebrows raising in shock as she turned abruptly and looked at Rose, who had followed her down the hall and was now lagging behind. 

“Yeah.”

“What, was there a car crash or a building fire or something?”

“I outlived them.”

“What?”

“I outlived them.” Rose drew her arms around herself and exhaled a shaky breath, staring at the ceiling in thought. “I’m 209 years old, Ace. Or thereabouts.”

“And the Professor?”

“850, or he thinks. Anywhere from 750 to 850, really. Both our species are really long-lived.”

“Well, yeah. I just-“ Ace frowned. “You’re both a lot younger-_acting _than I’d expect of...”

“Don’t judge a book by its cover,” the Doctor chuckled as they brought their conversation into the console room and joined him. “Now, Miss McShane. What do you say we figure out how you vanished off the face of the Earth?” 

“Please tell me you won’t be taking that with us,” Rose laughed. He looked from the red box with the tape deck and antenna attached to her and frowned. 

“It’s my timely-wimey detector,” he protested, offended on behalf of the device. “It goes ‘ding’ when there’s stuff.”

“Right. Stuff like Time Storm debris?”

“Among other things.” The Doctor smiled at the device proudly. “My own invention. It can _also _microwave frozen dinners and download comics from the future.”

“And those are useful things how...?”

“Well. I haven’t used them yet, but when I get the opportunity I’ll be ready, shan’t I?” He sniffed before grimacing. “Mind you, it’s not pretty when you get near hens. Never could quite figure out why that was...”

“It blows up chickens!?” Ace exclaimed, a gleam or eagerness in her eyes. “That’s so weird!”

“See, Ace appreciates it,” the Doctor challenged, looking at Rose. She had her hands over her mouth in an effort not to laugh and she finally gave up, snickering. 

“Right, fine. Fine. When’d you make this thing anyway?”

“Oh, in my Third incarnation.” His gaze went slightly foggy as he tried to remember. “Can’t seem to recall why I needed it...” the fog cleared and he shook his head with a smile, marching toward the doors. “Ah well. If I had to make myself forget, I’m sure it was for a good cause. Now come on, you lot. Out.” 

“Dunno why you think you’ll actually find anything,” Ace huffed, trudging after. Rose locked the doors behind them once they were all in the street. “It’s not like anything interesting ever happens here.” 

“By my estimates, you’ve been gone about a month,” the Doctor said, ignoring her and pulling the antenna to its full length. “That leaves enough temporal residue without you having to try and remember what was going on the equivalent of ‘yesterday.’ Now, if you’ll just leave me to my scans, I _should _get this sorted as quickly as possible...” 

“No use trying to interrupt him when he gets like that,” Rose sighed with a smile. “Believe me, I’ve tried. Come on, let’s go do some exploring, find your mates.” 

“And we’ll just meet him back here, then?” Ace asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically. 

“Nah. He’ll find trouble and wander off long before that, and then we’ll have to rescue him.”

“I can still hear you, you know,” the Doctor said dryly, not looking up as he crouched on the pavement and read his instruments. “The benefits of literally being right beside you as you talk about me.” 

“Will wonders never cease,” Rose sing-songed, ruffling his hair and then leaping away as he took a swipe at her. “Come on, Ace. It’s been a while since I got some decent Earth fish and chips, and it sounds good.” She pressed a kiss to the crown of his head and grinned when he hummed happily in response. “Save you some. Have fun.”

“Good luck with the knickknack search!”

Ace was giving Rose an odd look as she jogged to catch up, and Rose frowned at her inquisitively. 

“What?”

“There are times where I genuinely can’t tell if you’re newlyweds or an old married couple,” she sighed, shaking her head. 

“Neither. We’ve only officially been dating for three weeks.”

“Well, you might as well get the certificate and get it over with, because you’re basically married.” Rose rolled her eyes and Ace grinned. “I’m serious, Flower Power. You and Time Boy are basically married.” 

“Ooh, he’s gonna _hate _that nickname,” Rose snickered. “Please use it often.” 

They spent an extended amount of time going from address to address, using the nearest pay phone, and in general haunting the neighborhood looking for Ace’s friends. She was talking with a woman asking for spare change outside of a shop when Rose felt it: a pair of eyes, watching her. 

The hair on the back of her neck and her bare arms lifted and a soft snarl issued from her mouth; she left Ace calling concernedly after her as she pushed off the brick face of the shop building and walked cautiously across the street to peer into the tree-shaded hedgerow, but after a few moments of searching she turned up nothing. The malevolent presence had moved on. 

“‘Nothing ever happens in Perivale,’” she scoffed under her breath. “Right, Ace. Of course. Be careful what you wish for.” She started walking down the pavement, following a faint but unidentifiable trail of something definitely _not _terrestrial, which left Ace to chase after.

“Rose, wait. Hey! Just- just slow- _Yo, _**_Wolf!” _**Rose stopped dead, entire frame tensing, and Ace winced.

“What did you just call me?”

“Look, I’m copping to it,” she answered, raising her hands. “That was my bad. You just- you weren’t listening, and my legs are shorter than yours. What’s going on?” 

“We’re being watched!” The Doctor called, running towards them. He came to a skidding halt and glanced about worriedly. “If I think they are what they are, then...”

“There was something right here,” Rose growled. She pointed down the walk. “It went that way.”

“Ah, good. Saves me a rather embarrassing effort to procure cat food and lure the thing out into the open.” With the pronouncement he began walking in the direction she had pointed, leaving the pair of them to blink in confusion and trot after. 

“Where’s the Timey-Wimey detector?” Ace whispered. 

“Bigger on the Inside pockets,” Rose whispered back. “My favorite jacket’s got them too, I just left it in the TARDIS today because the weather was so nice.” 

“More worse on you.”

“Rose, as an apex predator of practically every food chain in the known universe, I’d have thought that you’d understand that _silence _is key to stalking one’s prey,” the Doctor sighed exasperatedly. 

“And what’s put _you _in such a snit?” She retorted, picking up her pace to draw level with him. Ace ended up on his other side. “And what’s this about cat food?” 

“The answer is two-fold,” he muttered, brow furrowing in troubled contemplation as he brought his hand up for shade and shielded his eyes against the bright sun. “Should have brought my sunglasses... anyway. To the first question. I did indeed get sufficient readings from the street, and they indicate that the Time Storm was not a naturally - if incredibly rare - occurring phenomenon. Of course-“

“Doo doo doodoodoo,” Ace snickered, smiling. She met his glare with a challenging smirk and crossed her arms. “Doo doo doo doo...”

“_Of course_,” he repeated, warning her to continue her interruption, “this means that someone _wanted _Ace on Iceworld, and we can presume by the way her timelines are shrouded that they wanted her to meet up with us. Which is very troubling, as I haven’t had such terrible manipulation of timelines around me since that business with the Black Guardian. It’s very worrying. However, as we can’t contemplate that at this moment, I’ll move on to the second question.

“The cat food. Quite useful, if you’re tracking a cat.”

“But you hate cats.”

“Yes, especially the kind of cats I’m afraid we might have to deal with on our hands.” 

“What, an influx of unusually-hostile strays?” Rose scoffed. The Doctor’s shoulders hunched and she frowned, suddenly registering the unease practically screaming over their bond. “Ooh. Sorry, Doctor. It’s still new for me, and I’m uneasy too so I just thought it was mine...”

“No, no it’s fine darling,” he sighed, the smile somewhat chastising of himself rather than her as he rubbed at his neck. “I need to be more aware of the fact that humans aren’t telepathic as a rule, which I admit is difficult because I’ve never _not _sensed your signature even if I wasn’t compatible with you at first. You’ve always been empathic from my point of view.”

“It receives differently, doesn’t feel like an external influx of emotion. Feels more like an internal influx.” She smiled apologetically, but it was delivered with a cheeky nudge of his shoulder. “Makes sense, since you’re in my head rather than out.” 

His own expression shifted into a slightly goofy grin of satisfaction at that and he nudged her back.

“These cats aren’t the type to throw into the garden when they get underfoot,” he explained. “They’re definitely high on the food chain. Called Cheetaar.”

“CHEAT AHH?” 

“No, KEET ARE. Hard ‘ch,’ elongated vowels. Though they look and act remarkably like the Earth wildcats I’m guessing you’re picturing.” 

“Why are we tracking a space cat to the youth center?” Ace asked, confused and pointing at the aforementioned building. “And, never mind about the cat. Should’ve come here first. Perivale’s boring as all get out on a Sunday, we always come here.”

The two time travelers followed her in and were just in time to watch a self-defense class come to an end, the Sergeant who was volunteering to teach it in his spare time urging the teenaged boys to be far more aggressive than was strictly necessary in a practice bout.

“Do you always encourage such violence in your pupils?” The Doctor asked mildly, shoving his hands into his pockets. The man - who appeared middle aged with severely receding and greying hair and mustache but who was still quite fit, turned on his heel and looked the seemingly younger-looking man over with obvious disdain. 

“Not that it’s any of your business, ya daisy chain pacifist,” he retorted sourly in a rolling Scottish brogue, “but if ya don’t teach them to be hard then the world will walk all over ‘em.”

“Had lessons like this as a kid myself,” Rose interrupted with a smile before the Doctor - who was in the process of opening his mouth to deliver a blistering rebuttal - could make the situation worse. “London’s not the safest place for teenagers, and the harder parts like Peckham? Trust me, he’s doing the kids a favor. I had to use the techniques I learned more than once to prevent someone from assaulting me on my way home from working at the shop in the evenings. ‘Course, I should have been more concerned with the Wolf beyond the door I called home than any mongrel prowling about on the pavement...” 

The Doctor’s jaw closed abruptly with a click as he looked her over, concerned. 

“Your missus gets it,” the Sergeant said approvingly. “Patterson, ma’am. I’d doff a hat but I ain’t wearin’ one.” 

“Where’d everybody _go?_” Ace asked, not concerned with the adult conversation. 

“Who?” Patterson replied, blinking. He then squinted. “Hang on a minute, you look familiar...”

“You’ve probably come across her on an arson charge,” the Doctor sighed, irritated once again and impatient, simultaneously rolling his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sergeant, this is very important, but have you seen anything strange going on around here over the past month?”

“We’ve had several disappearances if that’s what you mean,” Patterson mused. “Beginnin’ with that one, now I think about it. All troubled teens, and vanished into thin air. Funny thing, though. We’ve been gettin’ several lightning storms. Wrecking havoc on the power.”

“Lightning,” the Doctor murmured, thoughtful and clearly worried. “Yes, that’s what I was afraid of...” 

“Afraid of what?” Rose whispered, then growled softly as the air seemed to crackle with charged energy. 

“That,” the Doctor hoarsely whispered back.

~§§~

The world went entirely black for a few moments before resolving into solidity, sound, color, and smell once more. The wind carried a burnt electrical discharge tang to it that had the impromptu party of four coughing in sandy gravel, and with a wince Rose came to her feet and warily took in her surroundings. It was habit for her to offer the Doctor a hand up, and habit for him to accept it, and soon they were brushing themselves off and practically clinging to one another when it became apparent they were in an enemy camp. Ace and Patterson, both human were taking far longer to recover from the-

“Teleport,” the Doctor growled disdainfully. “Oh. That’s one way to clear the sinuses, I suppose. The question begs to be asked, however, because your people aren’t advanced technologically enough to pull this off, but how did you manage to operate such a device?” 

The Cheetaar people were not like anything Rose had expected. They were humanoid, their knees reversed in such a way that made it possible for them to stand upright yet run easily on all fours, and they walked in a half-crouch at all times. Lithe, bipedal bodies were covered entirely in thick fur and scant leather of the more intimate bits, but their hands were adorned with long talon-like nails in the perfect replacement of claws. Fluffy, rounded ears rested atop flat faces and fanged mouths, eyes entirely cat-like even down to the slits. Long tails flicked back and forth with nervous energy, and as the two humans accompanying them recovered the entire group inched closer. Many licked their lips with hungry anticipation, and that was enough for both Patterson and Ace to take off running with much of the... pride? Pack? Party? Immediately springing into pursuit. 

“Oh, I wish they hadn’t have done that,” the Doctor sighed as most of the camp emptied. 

“Should I go after them, do you think?” Rose asked. 

“No, I’d much rather you stayed here if it’s all the same,” came the amused reply of a far-too smug voice. The Doctor winced, eyes closing with a groan, as what was left of the Cheetaar parted to let the new arrival through. 

Rose took the time as he walked with slow satisfaction toward them to study him. He had dark, slicked-back hair, an entirely black outfit reserved for only the most dramatic and stereotypical of class movie villains, and a black goatee trimmed in perfect gliding around a mouth curved up into a wicked smirk. Dark, cold yet uniquely impassioned eyes filled with hate swept over the pair of them with mild interest and it wasn’t until Rose caught his scent that the pieces of the puzzle clicked.

“Is this the Master?” She asked urgently, shaking the Doctor’s arm. He nodded, fingers coming up to massage at his temples as if warding off a migraine. “Uh oh.”

“A pleasure to see you again, as always, Doctor,” the man purred, coming to a stop in front of them and clasping his black-gloved hands neatly in front of him. “Not that you had much say in the matter of course.”

“You promised new hunting grounds to the people of a dying world via technology in exchange for your keeping your life,” came the flat and tired reply. 

“Well, naturally. It was the best I could do after you left me to rot during that ‘planet of fire’ business.”

“I can’t believe I missed him that entire trip,” Rose muttered. “I mean, I know I was more concerned with keeping the people safe and looking after Peri, but...”

“Unfortunately, I have had the pleasure of meeting you in a prior incarnation further along in your future, _Miss_ Tyler,” the Master snapped. “Neither of us came away from that encounter with a decent impression of the other, I can assure you. But as to the current dilemma, it is my absolute _revulsion _to make your acquaintance for the first time from your point of view.” He affected a short bow that was accompanied by a sneer of complete distaste and Rose growled at him. 

“Oh, rest assured my dear, I well-prepared my Cheetaar allies to deal with your little habit of shedding your skin for a pelt. Have fun.” The sneer dissolved back into the dangerous, manic grin. This is, after all, The Most Dangerous Game.”

_Ace and Sergeant Patterson were lucky enough to make it to a secluded spot before they saw that those chasing them had veered off in favor of another target, and taking the advantage they dove under the ferns of the forest undergrowth. _

_“Ace!” A voice hissed softly, and they both startled as a group of dirty and frightened teens joined them. _

_“Shreela!” Ace whispered back. They moved quickly to embrace before parting. “What are you lot doing here?”_

_“Not now, later.” Shreela’s eyes darted nervously to the open spot. “They hunt us for sport as much as food. This is not a safe place. We need to move.”_

_“Where the devil are we?” Patterson blustered. It was apparent he was out of his death and trying vainly to hide it. _

_“Another world,” Ace replied softly, gaze rising to take in the large orange sun and the two moons that hung low in the sky just above the treetops of the forest. In the distance, a chain of mountains were belching out visible geysers of molten lava. Far below, in a valley, was a long stretch of sandy gravel nearby a large river, and along that river lay several animal hide tents and lean-tos. “And the people that own it see us as their dinner.” _

_“Whatever do you-“_

_“We were brought here, dumbbell, to be the main course!” She snapped. Finally, his eyes widened incomprehension. _

_“Ah...” _

The Master circled his adversaries in a slow, lazy manner that set the Doctor’s teeth on edge, and after a few passes he stopped beside Rose and ran his finger sensuously along her temple. Both she and the Doctor flinched as their empathic bond reacted negatively to the contact, and with a chuckle he stepped away to resume his slow walk. 

“What do you want?” The Doctor finally asked, growling out the words through clenched teeth and settling for digging his nails into his palms rather than carding them through his already-stress tousled hair. The reaction of the empathic bond had triggered a few latent baser survival instincts. Such as strangling the man for threatening it, among others.

“I find it interesting, your choice of Intent,” the Master commented, raising an eyebrow and making direct eye contact with his once-friend now greatest enemy. The Doctor blinked, actually hissing at him, and moved closer to Rose to wrap his arm around her waist in a loose but clearly territorial movement as a low decidedly feline growl emanated from his throat. “Oh, come now. As if I would ever see fit to challenge that. No, I have other plans for you, all of them involving getting me off this time-forsaken rock to civilization and ending you once and for all in the process.”

He turned on his heel and waved indifferently at them over his shoulder, not bothering to look as he moved back into the Cheetaar camp. “For now, my friends have instructions to let you have a head start. I felt it would be far more entertaining if I were to witness a game of cat and mouse. I’d start running if I were you, Doctor. It _does _seem to be your forte in your current incarnation. Rose. Lovely to see you again. Goodbye.”

“That weaselly-“

“Never mind that,” the Doctor interrupted, grabbing her hand and pulling. “We need to find Ace and Patterson.”

“...Yeah, yeah sure,” Rose murmured, casting one last glare over her shoulder at the Master’s retreating back before matching him step for step and picking up the scent of their quarry. “Follow me.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Though I didn’t plan it this way, “Survival was the last story of Classic Who, but it was also the last ever appearance of Anthony Ainley’s incarnation of the Master. So, it’s nearly midnight where I am, but it’s still his birthday today (along with Sylvester McCoy’s [Seven] and Sophie Aldred’s [Ace]. I wanted to start this story while it was their shared birthday, because Ainley loved playing the role but sadly never lived to see Doctor Who come back on air. Happy birthday to three wonderful actors.
> 
> For the Cheetaar people, envision “Thundercats” or Cheetah from the Wonder Woman comics, just less sexualized... they’re feline bipeds, they don’t need huge anime breasts, thank you very much...
> 
> Ace’s response to the word “phenomenon” is in direct reference to THIS video...
> 
> https://youtu.be/8N_tupPBtWQ
> 
> If I have to be cursed with hearing this skit every time I hear the word “phenomenon” then so should you XD


	37. Survival II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally start back at uni tomorrow, so wish me luck. My updates may be more sporadic than they have been this summer, as everything is going to be completely online until mid-October, and then I will have a total of one class on campus with eveeything else still online. It's weird, and I hate the inconsistency, but at least there's some contingencies in place to deal with COVID. 
> 
> I love this story and will keep working on it regardless of classwork, but it may take me a little longer and I wanted you guys to be aware. Happy reading!

_“Doctor, Rose has been gone for a while,” Ace murmured carefully. “She usually doesn’t take this long when she hunts...”_

_“I’m aware, Ace,” the Doctor murmured softly, eyes scanning the ridge of the volcanic mountains with worry. The planet was far too unstable, and the ash that had coated the skies that morning had made everything thick and muted. The forests, the river, the gravel flats. All of it, blanketed in an oppressive silence and the scent and taste of ash in the mouths of all creatures upon the planet. “But we have to give her more time. I doubt it was easy to find any prey with the sky fire raining down on the world.”_

_“You can feel her, right?”_

_“Mm.” Truth be told, he wished he _couldn’t _feel her at the moment. Their emotions and instincts were at war with their more sensible natures, clouding judgement, and there were far too many people depending on them to be distracted at the moment. “I don’t sense any pain or fear, Ace. Just frustration and stubborn determination. We’ll have our dinner, be it late, and Rose would take it as a personal offense for you to doubt her. She’s fine, just got her heart set on catching a decent kill.”_

_“Has she ever been like this before?” Ace asked tentatively. “So... feral, I mean.” The Doctor’s entire posture hunched as he tensed and let out a stressed breath between clenched teeth._

_“Not in a very, very long time.”_

~§§~

**TWO WEEKS PRIOR...** ****

The Master’s head start lasted all of fifteen minutes. Just long enough to get a fair bit of distance, just short enough that the Cheetaar made quick work of bounding after their prey with alarming speed. Rose growled in warning low in her chest as a result and spun abruptly on her heel, ignoring the sharp exclamation of worry from the Doctor as he skidded to a halt and tugged on her hand.

“Just go, Doctor, I’ll cover for you,” she growled.

“That’s the _problem, _Rose, I _can’t!” _He hissed back. She cast a quick look at him and froze; she’d never seen him so agitated. Entire face flushed, eyes wide, pupils dilated so far his irises looked almost entirely black. Every muscle in his body was pulled taut with tension and he was panting for breath. 

“Well, _why not!?_” 

“I- it- oh for- Look, I’ll explain later.” His grip tightened around her wrist and he pulled, causing her to stumble, and she gasped as she realized he was going purely on adrenaline at the moment before she managed to break into a run and match him step for step. “Just. Go!” 

A vast expanse of gravel flatland stretched ahead of them and beyond that, a tight grouping of dense forest and mountainous foothills. A small sandy trail wound through the trees and disappeared into thick undergrowth, and hand clasped in hand this was the path that they ran toward. Rose gained ground step by step as they flew, eventually all but dragging the Doctor behind her in her desperate haste to get away from their rapidly-gaining pursuers, and the sound and feel of her trainers hitting soft, crumbling dirt caused momentary satisfaction right before it was quite literally swept out from under her. 

Blind panic flooded her body in a way she hadn’t experienced since before she’d had her one hundredth birthday, and with a yelp of pure terror she wound herself tightly around the Doctor as the net they’d triggered flung them high into the air. 

The clinging was a two-step measure. It prevented them slamming into one another and breaking something, and it provided comfort. Regardless, the Doctor squeaked in surprise at both the aforementioned clinging and the aforementioned net. He opened his mouth to make a comment, but the already-sensitive empathic bond was trembling like a leaf in high wind and physically Rose was doing little better. This, predictably, triggered yet another round of over-protective instincts and the cascade of chaos only continued when Ace leaned out of a tree to chuck a can of Nitro 9 at them and froze.

“The path, Ace!” He shouted, doing his best to point at the rapidly-approaching Cheetaar. Without any form of acknowledgement, Ace chucked the can directly below the net. It exploded in all its pyrotechnic glory and the hungry creatures came to a skidding halt, hissing and yowling at the noise and bright heat as they spun about and ran back the way they’d come. “Cheers.” 

“Who’re this lot then!?” The voice belonged to an adolescent male. Hostile. The Doctor swung his head about to get a good look at him and pinned him to the tree branch he’d been occupying with an icy blue glare. 

“Friends,” Ace said with a wince, and the Doctor pointedly turned his back on the two teenage boys to take in his companion and the teenage girl peering over her shoulder from the branch of an opposing tree. “Good friends.”

“Get me down,” Rose whimpered against his chest. “Last time I was in one of these things, a hunter wanted my head on his wall, and he brought a garrote made of silver with him to get it done...”

“Ace!?” He called, far more urgently. “Please!?”

“I- _Yeah _yeah, ‘course. Let me just-” 

“Do I even _want _to know why you’ve got a _foldable machete _in your rucksack?”

“...Best not to ask, Professor...” Ace let out a grunt as she swung back with her arm, fighting to keep her balance on the bough she was on, and threw all her weight behind the strike. The blade hit the thick rope of the net and the Doctor let out a yelp as he and Rose abruptly dropped several feet onto the soft sandy ground. Unfortunately, the ground was still very much on fire, and Rose pushed off of it to all but vault them several feet in the air in a bounce to land singed but not smoking in the nearby untouched undergrowth. The fronds shook violently for several moments before stilling. 

“You guys okay?” Ace asked, leaning out of the tree along with her three friends to peer below with concern.

“...Ace, is there _any _time or planet where what we just experienced would mean we were, to quote, ‘okay?’ Because I submit that there is not.” 

“Can it Time Boy. I was asking Flower Power.”

“Time _What!?_” 

“‘Time Boy,’” Rose snickered, brushing some dead leaves out of her hair. She’d landed squarely on top of him and was currently burying her laughter into the fabric of his jumper, shoulders shaking, while he frowned at the crown of her head with a petulant scowl.

“Rose, we were almost eaten by Cheetaar,” he said slowly. “Is this really the time to...”

“Yes.”

“...Oh.” The frown deepened. “Well that’s not very mature, now is it?” He used his arms to knock her lightly but firmly onto the ground beside him. “And if that’s your attitude, you can very well find yourself a _different _landing pad.”

“Who needs landing pads?” Rose huffed, springing to her feet and brushing herself off with a wide smile. He blinked, automatically reaching out to sense her true mood along their empathic bond and wincing when the after-effects of fading terror made them both flinch.

“Sorry. I know you’re not used to...”

“Well, humans ask verbally, but in your own telepathic Gallifreyan way that’s exactly what you did,” she said with a shrug, walking over to inspect the remnants of the Nitro explosion and whistling at the smoking, simmering brush. She smiled at him over her shoulder and motioned for him to kneel next to her. “Cultural and Species differences, Doctor. No big deal, just something we both have to adjust to. Now, _I _have a question about what the Hell it was that the Master did to our bond back there, because it’s all... harsh, raw.”

“It’s called a Challenge,” the Doctor sighed, scratching at the back of his head and ruffling his hair. “And once we’re in more private circumstances I’ll explain in full, but I’m not comfortable with talking about it even in front of Ace.”

“Gotcha. Speaking of...” she raised her head and squinted into the canopy. “Hey, _Wizard of Oz! _Get down here!”

“_‘Wizard of Oz?’_” The Doctor mouthed, laughing as Ace shouted down at them. Her words were accompanied by the raining of twigs and leaves as all four teens clambered down to join them.

“Say that to my face Snowdrop!” 

“Never happening Glinda.” She looked at the unknown young woman and tilted her head slightly. “Um. What’s your name?” 

“Shreela.” Rose’s mouth fell slightly open in amazement and she punched the Doctor’s arm. 

“Right. Wouldn’t happen to be Santi Costello’s baby sister wouldja?” Shreela reared back and blinked at her with wide eyes. 

“Yeah. How’d you-”

“D-distant friend of the family. More a- we live on the same estate,” Rose said quickly as the Doctor rubbed his arm and shot her an annoyed glare that was quickly being overcome by curiosity. “Um. Nice to finally put a name to the face.” 

“...Oh. Well, uh... this is me.” She tugged on a frazzled black ringlet that had fallen out of her bun and cast dark eyes on the immediate surroundings nervously. “We need to move before it gets dark. They normally leave us alone if we’re not in open areas but, well... sometimes they like climbing through the trees.” 

“Have _any _of you been camping before?” Rose asked. All four shook their heads negatively and the Doctor winced.

“Not rough, not like this,” he admitted. “Certainly not to any degree of experience that you have. And it my be a very long while before we can get back to Earth.” A frown crossed his face as he looked at the four teens. “Where’s that other fellow gone, uh- Patterson, I think his name was?”

“He hit his head when he tripped over a tree root,” Ace snickered. “‘Survival training’ indeed. Midge brought him back to the camp.” She lowered her head and sighed. “It was right after we watched ‘em get Stevie.” 

“Yeh, Midge just let it happen too,” the one of the boys muttered. The one who was presumably Midge rounded on him, messy light brown hair flying in an arc as he spun. 

“Shut up, Derek!” 

“Nah mate, you only think about yourself!” Derek shot back, stiffening with taut anger and approaching Midge, who also squared up. “I’m sick of it. First Terry, then Angela, now Stevie.”

“What happened to Terry and Angela!?” Ace gasped, eyes wide.

“He brought the coppers down on ‘em didn’t he, ta save ‘is own skin? Busted ‘em as runaways and sent ‘em back to that foster home they hated so much!”

“An’ if my dad found me, what di’ya think he’d have done to me?” Midge shouted back. 

“Males,” Rose muttered, rolling her eyes.

“You’re really aiming to get on my bad side today, aren’t you?” the Doctor retorted flatly. 

“‘Course not love,” she teased, ruffling his hair as she rose to a stand and dusted herself off. “Well, come on you lot. Best get back to camp, get a head start on those Cheetaar, get somewhere safe.” Both young boys let out a yelp as Rose grabbed them by their collars, sniffed the air, and confidently began dragging them in the direction of their camp as she followed Patterson’s scent. 

When they reached the camp, it was little more than a mess of gathered leaves and the smallest of cold fire pits. Patterson had been laid on one of the makeshift cots with his jacket bundled underneath his head, a strip torn from his shirt to wrap around his forehead and cover the cut in his receding hairline. By this time Rose had let go of Derek and Midge’s jacket collars and she easily knelt to scoop Patterson over her shoulder, standing and allowing the Doctor to situate the man for safe travel. The sun hung high in the sky, the air warm and dry in the deciduous forest, and she led the way as they trekked ever higher upward toward the summit of the mountain chain. After a long while the others began to trail behind.

“Want to tell me what we’re looking for?” The Doctor asked quietly when the others were far enough behind not to be overheard. 

“Need to know more about the Cheetaar and the planet before I can be sure,” Rose said with a shrug, causing Patterson to shift slightly and moan in his sleep. “So?”

“Typically quadruped species, opposable thumbs, capable of being bipedal but more at home on all fours. Built for wide open spaces and high speed, but not averse to climbing trees if they need to. A highly predatory culture with a warrior caste hierarchy.” He’d have shoved his hands into his pockets if he didn’t need them for potential rock climbing as the terrain became steeper and steeper. “As for the planet. The sun is young, the core highly volatile. The planet may be in its infancy but it’s dying. That mountain range over on the horizon, those are all active volcanos.”

“Pleasant.”

“Mm. So, I reiterate: what are we looking for?”

“Dense forest, high terrain, and a good vantage point to see for miles in all directions. Easily defendable.” She walked with high confidence in every single movement she made from the proud tilt of her chin and firm steps of her feet to the secure grip on Patterson and the squared shoulders he rested upon like a sack of potatoes. Quiet awe and adoration filtered across the bond as the Doctor regarded her and she bit her lip with a small grin. “Shut up. Anyway... I’m hoping for a shallow cave with a nice wide landing around the opening. Sheltered, easy to keep out rain and wind. Also easy to protect from Cheetaar due to spacial limitations when it comes to their speed.”

“Rassilon, I love it when you talk shop,” the Doctor murmured under his breath.

“Mm... well, I wasn’t exactly bored listening to you either,” Rose chuckled. She let out a soft sigh and smiled, gaze flicking to the sky, before her entire expression brightened even further and she used her free arm to point at a spot above them. “Oh! Not perfect, but... promising.”

“Wha- oh, no,” he sighed, shoulders slumping as he took in the steep climb. 

_It was well into the evening before they’d gotten properly settled in. The cave was more of an open overhang on a stretch of semi-flat stone so weathered by the elements that, where exposed to the overhead sky, it had cracked and grown thick uneven patches of grass. The path that led to it was narrow but doable and led a merry climb, and the tiny plateau held a sheer drop on two of the three traversable sides so that the path was the only viable option. _

_A source of freshwater came in the form of a small crack in the rock face under the overhang, a tiny trickle of ground water eking out in a few droplets at a time over the years to form a pool no bigger nor deeper than the size of a pasta bowl. It wasn’t much, but the dripping was steady, and the Doctor had set to work on widening the crack with the sonic screwdriver while the others gathered underbrush for bedding until he’d managed to achieve a nice, tiny stream that overflowed the pool and ran down the rock face to the forest floor far below. Rose had dug a nice, deep fire pit under the overhang on the far side from the bedding area and deposited dried twigs and branches inside of it for a fire. _

_Everyone had been exhausted by that point, and the pair of them had opted to take the first watch while the humans slept. And so they sat under an overhang, poking at the small almost smokeless fire, looking out on the forest and the stars above._

_For the first time that day, they were alone. _

“You said you’d explain what the Master did to the bond,” Rose said after a long and uninterrupted silence. There was no preamble, but she didn’t require one. The Doctor nodded and put down the stick he’d been using to stoke the fire, turning fully toward her and taking her hands into his. His thumbs gently stroked her knuckles and he sighed, making an obvious effort to look her in the eye.

“As I said before, it’s called a Challenge. It- right... Ah. I need to um... I need to lay some groundwork and then work my way back up to that.”

“Go right ahead,” she prompted with a soft, encouraging smile. He mirrored a far more nervous rendition of it and took a deep breath, so she squeezed his fingers for added emphasis. 

“Right, right. Right... Ah. So. The use of telepathic bonds became somewhat unfashionable shortly after the Time Lords rose to power, when the act of political marriages became more common. Over time, the use of them actually landed itself on the list of taboo cultural aspects that Time Lord society would rather not acknowledge.”

“Awful hard when they’ve got a supposedly...” Rose searched for the right word and then smirked, utilizing air quotes to exaggerate her point. “‘...Inferior’ strata of the social classes in non-Time Lord Gallifreyans who still use both the bonds and traditional marriage ceremonies. Yeah? How far off am I?”

“Not very,” the Doctor laughed, tapping her on the nose and finally completely relaxing as he talked. “You’re right, of course. But as I myself am a Time Lord, let’s stick with the taboo view of the act shall we? It will better orient you as to where I’m coming from.”

“M’kay.”

“Now, there are certain tiers of bonds my species forms in any and all relationships, and Time Lords naturally complicated things by distinguishing which were acceptable and which were not. Familial bonds, or bonds formed automatically between blood relatives, are most acceptable, because for obvious reasons you can’t get rid of them. They’re just a fact of life that can’t be reasoned with. Next most acceptable are Pact Bonds, or deals made between two or more persons. They’re sort of like Unbreakable Vows, I suppose, but for a highly political world like Gallifrey they are used practically in every council session and edict. Nemesis bonds are also fairly common due to the aforementioned politics.”

“‘Nemesis Bonds?’ What in-“

“As you grow to hate a person, your mind automatically begins to react to registering their telepathic signature by giving you a headache.”

“Right. So whenever you run into the Master, you’ve got this headache that comes and goes? He just walks into a room and you’re like ‘ah yes, there it is again,’ or...?” Rose’s cheeky grin faded as the Doctor cleared his throat and dropped his gaze to briefly look over her shoulder before refocusing. “...Or the two of you are a lot more complicated than that.” 

“Friendship bonds are a neutral aspect of a Gallifreyan daily life,” he sighed. “We don’t really have an opinion on them one way or another, but there’s a different type of bond called ‘Entwinement.’ It... you know how, sometimes, you have that best friend who becomes so much more, and it’s almost as if you’ve gotten yourself a sibling without being related by blood? They’re really not, but you’d still do anything for them. Your very best friend, who you trust with your darkest secrets and they reward that trust by trusting you in return.”

“Mickey Smith,” came the soft reply. It was accompanied by an understanding, sympathetic squeeze of his fingers where they still held her hands. “The pair of you share an Entwinement bond.”

“_Shared, _being the operative tense,” came the sad correction. “And Rose, when an Entwinement bond breaks, it... it sears. All the pain of the betrayal that warranted the tear, amplified tenfold. And if you were to look into either of our minds, you’d see the scar of the bond. And it will never fade. Cutting someone like that out of your life is painful, but out of your head... the um. Entwinement bonds are rarer, and aren’t formed with a conscious decision. They just. Form. Deepen, from a base friendship bond into the bond of a best friend.”

“What happened?” Rose asked. Something in his eyes shuttered. 

“We’re talking about bonds, Rose. Not the Master.”

“And he’s here,” she said reasonably. “And he issued a Challenge. If I’m to understand why he’d do such a thing when you finally get around to explainin’ what it is, then I need to know what went down between you two. And besides, it’s important. It’s still hurting you. So it’s important to me, too.” 

“I... fine,” he sighed, shoulders slumping. “When we were children we were all but inseparable. The House of Lungbarrow- mine- was close to the House of Oakdown- his- and when we went to the Academy our friendship only deepened. We were both disillusioned with following the political careers our families intended us to go into, and there were about ten of us with varying reasons for that disillusionment in our graduating class. We called ourselves the Deca. And after we graduated, we no longer had any like interests to bind us together. We drifted apart.

“All except Koschei and I. The Master, his name was Koschei before he picked his title. Like my name was Theta Sigma. Not our _real _names. Which would be the keys to our timelines, really. It’s an instinctual knowledge we hold in secret in our hearts and mind- eh. But I digress. At any rate, when we graduated, we went our separate ways but kept in touch. Our Entwinement bond, which developed during school, made drifting apart in the way we had from the others impossible.”

The Doctor paused to re-situate himself into a more comfortable position and gather his thoughts. Rose bit her lip and nodded encouragingly for him to continue, and he took a breath to do so.

“It started with a Pact bond when we turned one hundred,” he explained. “We’d taken enough astronomy classes to get our wanderlust going, and we made a pact to travel to every star in the universe together. That young, we didn’t know better than to make a promise like that so flippantly. And as we grew older, it became less of a fanciful notion and more of a double-ended noose slowly strangling our necks. The further apart we drifted, the tighter it got. 

“It wasn’t long after we’d graduated and gotten on with our lives that it happened. Political unrest had been brewing on Gallifrey, and Koschei- the Master. The Master wanted to... to start a revolution. I agreed. We were two young firebrands with grand plans and no idea how to execute them, and for a time it worked. Then it all fell apart. And I...” he hung his head and sniffed. It was a gesture more of anger than sadness, directed at himself. “I was a coward. I ran.” He looked back up at her, eyes bright with shining moisture that refused to be shed, and blinked hard. “I took an oath, to hold to myself. I swore to do no harm. And in a single act...”

“When I stole the TARDIS, when I left Gallifrey without him. I broke not one but two sacred bonds, effectively cutting off the only ties of substance I had ever forged to my home planet. I carry the scars of both of them upon my mind, and so does he. And it’s made the both of us embittered toward one another, because the only thing we can see when we set eyes on each other is pain.” 

“What about your familial bond?” Rose asked softly. The Doctor scoffed.

“My elder brother and I were adopted due to being produced by a malfunctioning loom. It happens, sometimes old TNA combinations get caught in the device and produce a child from donors who are no longer living. Rare, but heard of. We’re not even blood brothers toward one another, actually. But brothers of shared experience. I have none. Susan was the first... I hadn’t felt... not before she... mm. So, you see, don’t you. Why my leaving Gallifrey and breaking all ties with the Master effectively cut off all ties I had to the planet in general.”

“You have me,” Rose whispered, leaning forward and taking one of her hands from his to gently cup his jaw and stroke his cheek with the pad of her thumb. At the same time she unthinkingly caressed the empathic bond and they both let out tiny gasps of discomfort as the entire thing shuddered and flared brightly in their minds. “Ow. Um, so, think you should explain what a Challenge does before I screw up again with that, yeah?” 

“A Challenge is... pretty much what it says on the tin,” the Doctor muttered, running his free hand through his hair and scowling as the fingers caught on a tangle. “The Master Challenged our bond, and because it’s only a courtship bond the challenge poses a very real threat. If it were an Engagement bond it would only have been an irritating buzz, like an insect, but... okay. Um.”

“‘S pretty obvious what it _is_, genius. I’m wondering just what, exactly, it _does_.”

“...Right. Right. When... when the Master Challenged the bond. Essentially, the purpose of a Challenge is to stake a counter claim against mine on you as to who wins the favor of your affections. The Master has no interest in such a thing, but. The result is that it triggers some more territorial, primal instincts in me so that I can fight to keep my claim. Physically, if need be. While we’re long and far removed, my species _did _descend from a more feline form. And those instincts are still there, buried very, _very _deeply underneath eons of Time Lord genetic engineering and historical ancestral erasure. By Challenging the bond, he managed to trigger quite literally every single one.”

A frown creased his brow as he thought. 

“Wonder how he knew that would work... ah, well. Now, I have a question from you. What exactly is your interest in Shreela?”

“When I was a kid I had this friend growing up, Shareen?”

“You’ve mentioned her before, yeah.”

“Shreela’s her aunt on her mum’s side.” Rose bit her lip. “I’m concerned. She disappeared when we were just toddlers, no one ever heard from her again. I just... what if she doesn’t make it off this rock?” 

“Her timelines don’t seem to indicate an abrupt end,” the Doctor assured her. There was a moment of slightly awkward silence.

“Is there a way to settle the- Challenge- dispute, so that it doesn’t bother you anymore?” Rose asked, raising an eyebrow and abruptly changing the subject back to the other . “Any way to- mmph!” Her words abruptly cut off as the Doctor darted forward to capture her lips in a searing kiss and they both sighed, relaxing into it as the bond flared brightly and then seemed to shimmer into a contented sort of happy buzzing, burning strong and golden in their minds. 

“Better?” He asked, panting against her mouth. 

“Was the tongue necessary, or...? Not that, I’m uh, complaining in any way...” they pulled apart slightly to rest their foreheads together, eyes closed, and bask in the reaffirmed connection. 

“Not really.” The smile he wore only widened when she yawned and accidentally puffed a tiny gust of air into his face. “Get some sleep, Rose. I slept this morning, I won’t need sleep for a good few days yet. I’ll keep watch.” Rose bit her lip and nodded, stifling a second yawn, and stood to shift into her Wolf form. She shook out her fur and then plopped onto the ground behind his back, her warmth seeping into him from where her side pressed against his spine and providing sufficient lumbar support. 

She let out a soft huff, her lupine form of ‘night,’ and he chuckled softly, reaching back with one hand and petting the silky fur of her ears.

“Night, Rose.” 

It was a long time after she dropped off to sleep that he dropped the facade, releasing a heavy breath and working to control the soft irregular pants as he tried to will his body to accept that the bond was no longer threatened and stand down from high alert. 

Shaking hands clutched at tufts of wiry grass by his side looking for control over something he currently had no control over, and he shut his eyes tight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The events in which the Doctor and the Master had a falling out, as well as any subject matter pertaining to bonds, was fabricated by me. The falling out, and reason for the Doctor leaving Gallifrey, are somewhat touched on in the EU but a bit nebulous so I decided to keep a tiny grain of influence and do my own thing. Additionally, I took a different direction with the Doctor and his brother’s known lineage, or lack thereof. Hope you enjoyed the explanation...
> 
> So, pay attention to that tiny little side comment that got made about baser instincts being triggered, because it’s going to get real important later... 
> 
> Full list of the Bonds briefly discussed in the chapter (including some not mentioned because my world-building doesn’t always have everything up front and center, but it’s important the reader gets a complete understanding. These also include tiny descriptions of what they are. Truth be told this list was also put here for my benefit so I had easy referral when writing this chapter... lol.
> 
> Non-romantic Bonds:  
-Familial (mother, father, aunt, uncle, sibling, cousin, extended blood kin, etc. Allows emotions to be shared without skin contact, and in extreme duress one member can call to another. Can be used as a homing beacon, and blood relatives will instantly recognize one another by their telepathic signature. )  
-Friendship (base level empathic awareness, like a thin thread that can be easily broken without pain. Needs skin contact to work properly though subconscious use occurs to help define a friend’s mood more easily as a sort of heightened sensitivity and awareness.)  
-Pact (a promise made between two individuals. Can be platonic, romantic, a political agreement, etc etc etc. These are extremely painful to break and usually result in a regeneration.)  
-Entwinement (friendship of the kind where they might as well be your adopted sibling, you’re so close. Besties forever. These actually sear and permanently scar when they are broken.)
> 
> Romantic Bonds:  
-Empathic (base level, dating, official courtship between two individuals. Can be broken with little to no consequences. Allows the reading of empathic emotion and mood without skin contact.)  
-Engagement (what it says on the tin. This is a more permanent bonding, like giving someone the key to your apartment except it’s a back door into your head, and this causes great pain if it is broken. Thoughts can be read if there is skin on skin contact, and it can be used to call out in duress or to home in on someone’s location.)  
-Marriage, or Total (this bond is quite literally “till death do you part” due to the complete sharing and melding of each other’s mindscapes together. With this, an individual has access to their mate’s memories and thoughts as well as emotions, though it’s considered polite to ask before just delving into those. This does not require any touching. It is everything an engagement bond is heightened and refined.)
> 
> Miscellaneous Bonds:  
-Nemesis (the person walks into the room and you just go “he is here” accompanied by a headache. Helps you avoid one of the people you hate most. Forms accidentally.)  
-Pack (specifically for Letoan Wolves like Rose, this allows a pack to have the full equivalent of a familial bond between non-blood relatives and is very important for when everyone is traveling and can’t speak verbally.)  
-Soul (extremely rare, and never proven. A feeling of completeness. Not necessarily romantic but usually is in its nature. More a fanciful myth than reality.)


	38. Survival III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To GroovyKat, SpiritofEowyn, ThePlotThinens, and Hudine as well as the indirect support of several other people (TimeLadyHope and Lady_Inari among others), I am immeasurably grateful for the help offered in figuring out a major plot mechanic. Seriously, I wouldn’t have been able to continue this story without that mechanic, so being able to pick people’s brains is a veritable Godsend and allowed this to move forward. 

_The morning after the talk of bonds, Sergeant Patterson awoke with a violent start and screamed like a little girl when he saw a massive Wolf not ten feet away. Said Wolf was lying partly on top of the Doctor, who had moved during the night to rest with his back against a large rock, and her head was angled upward so that she could lick every inch of his face. His laughter and her happy whines both trailed off abruptly when the man screamed, thereby rudely awakening every single other person in their group. _

_The day began with taking inventory of their resources - or grievous lack thereof - and working out a game plan for getting home. The solution was simple, really. The Doctor and Ace would scout the Cheetaar camp looking for the teleport technology the Master was using, Rose would hunt the forests for meat, and Patterson would guide the three teens remaining on gathering edible plants and fish. At night, the adolescents of the group (including Ace, despite her protests) would sleep and Patterson, Rose, and the Doctor would take turns on watch. At that, even Patterson was rarely ever wakened - it was more a courtesy to let him feel useful than anything else. _

_The first week was pretty much stressful and filled with wary looking over the shoulders, feeling as if the forest had eyes and was watching them. The teens rarely left the camp unless they were with Patterson, and it was one of the few instances where the Doctor was actually glad that someone was packing heat because he couldn’t always be present to watch after the teens when he was away if something came after them._

_Patterson was proving useful in a morale sense; when at camp, he occupied their time with teaching self-defense and making weapons from rock and branches. He taught them valuable survival skills that they hadn’t had before, and that served two purposes: keeping them busy and helping them learn to fend for themselves. _

_The Doctor and Ace made frequent trips toward the Cheetaar encampment that first week, actually taking the time to map the terrain in his journal and recording hunting party times. When they’d gotten the schedule down, the pair felt bold enough to approach the very outskirts of the camp when the majority of them were out looking for food. The sonic was set for a wide scan, looking for advanced technology, and the Doctor frowned when the results turned up negative. _

_Whatever the Master was using, it either wasn’t in the camp or it wasn’t any kind of technology the Doctor had encountered before._

_While the first week had been a flurry of activity and general optimism, at the start of the second week a general melancholy descended upon the group. It was beginning to occur to everyone that this might not be a quick fix, and that they could potentially be stuck on the planet for months. To make matters worse, the volcano range ahead become active and general shuddering rumbles were constantly trembling through the ground at any given moment. None of them had erupted yet, but it was only a matter of time._

_Rose had taken to shifting from her Wolf form less and less throughout the time they’d spent there, and it occurred to Ace by the end of the second week that she hadn’t actually taken human form for the past two days. It was then that the volcanoes erupted, sending ash raining down and breaking the crust of the planet open, and she forgot about it until Rose had taken an unusually long time to return to the camp._

~§§~

**PRESENT DAY**

The Doctor ran full tilt through the choking ash, heat stinging his eyes and blinding him, and he yelped as he tripped over a loose tree branch. The yowl of a hungry Cheetaar sounded behind him, and he took a shuddering breath as he backed away on the ground, feet kicking to propel him backward. The creature approached slowly in a predatory stalk, crouched low to the ground of the forest path with a soft growl rumbling in its chest. Its tail flicked restlessly back and forth, eyes locked upon his person as it licked its lips and bared its teeth in a snarl. 

“Doctor!” Ace called, panicked from farther up the incline. “Doctor where are you!?”

“Ace! Run! Don’t look back, just run!”

“Doctor!”

Absolute fury tore through the bond and he let out a gasp, squeezing his eyes tight shut to cope with the pain, before opening them again. The tears streaming down his face in the offensive against the ash were immediately disregarded as his mouth gaped in a perfect mixture of terror and awe as Rose came bounding over the rock he’d trapped himself against, flying through the air as she launched herself at his attacker. The Cheetaar that had been chasing him came to a skidding halt, tail flailing wildly as it tripped over its own front hands and attempted without success to maintain its balance. 

Rose slammed into it - _her_ \- with an audible bone-crunching crack as their chests collided and the Doctor groaned, clutching at his rib cage and rolling over onto his back as phantom pain traveled back to him over the bond. He quickly dampened the connection as best as possible - normally an easy task made extremely difficult after the Challenge had been issued - and scrambled to his feet to run in Ace’s general direction. 

The sound of tearing fur, snapping jaws, and yelps on both sides seemed to echo through the otherwise-quiet as death forest, and he squinted hard at the sky looking for the sun through an ash-laden haze. Ace screamed as they nearly collided with one another, and he gripped her shoulders to hold her in place as he collected his thoughts. 

Everything went eerily still and silent, so he tilted his head back the way he’d come and swallowed nervously.

“Rose?” 

“Doctor?” Ace whispered. “What happened?”

“Rose saved my life... again...”

“Speak of the Wolf.” Rose came trotting out of the trees, her fur thick with the purple-red blood of a Cheetaar, her head held high and her claws unsheathed to better grip the chalky, loose soil. She eyed them both with a no-nonsense stare and shook out her pelt, letting out a soft _boof _and continuing on her path toward the general direction of the camp. They followed after, the heavy atmosphere seeming to warn against conversation, and paused only when Rose stopped beside a hollowed-out tree to pull the carcasses of some cleanly killed planet-equivalent rabbits from the hiding place. Held firmly in her mouth, she carried her catch back to the camp.

“What _happened _to you three!?” Shreela exclaimed, eyes wide with horror as Rose deposited her catch beside the pile of fish Derek and Midge were cleaning. She made a show of shrugging her shoulders and moved off under the overhang to sit and raise a hind leg to scratch at an ear.

“Ran into some trouble,” Ace said, making an effort to sound unconcerned as the Doctor ignored the rest of the group and walked over to sit next to Rose, who had laid down on their shared pile of leaves with her head resting on her front paws. 

After the first few days on the run together, the group had quickly acclimatized to Rose’s habit of changing form. They didn’t so much as flinch anymore when she walked through the camp; in fact, the only person who seemed concerned with her current chosen form was the Doctor. 

“You sure that was all it was?” Patterson asked in a low voice, leaning over and down slightly to keep the conversation more private. 

“Yeah,” Ace murmured with a swallow. She shook herself slightly and put on a smile. “The Doctor and I were able to get closer to the camp today. The Cheetaar are hungry. Desperate. The ash has driven all the game farther away from their camp and it takes them longer, and more of them, to bring back enough kills to keep their bellies full at night. We were able to go right up to the Master’s tent.”

“Any sign of our ticket back home?” The sergeant asked. Despite the low volume of the conversation, Ace’s friends’ heads jerked up to listen in in a not so subtle manner. 

“Not yet, but we’re determined.”

Rose let out a soft whine as the Doctor sat beside her. 

“Oh, hush,” he sighed, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he rooted about in his dimensionally-transcendental pockets and pulled out a couple of moist towelettes. She huffed in annoyance at him as he began cleaning her fur with the wipes. “You’re in a right state right now. So quit squirming, let me get it over and done with...” 

It was a good few moments before he spoke again, his fingers running the wipe gently down her fur and scraping the blood away.

“I hate it when you get blood in your fur,” he whispered softly. “Even if it’s- if it’s _blue_, or- or _purple, _Hell, _chartreuse_, I still have this split moment of panic where I think it might be yours.” Rose nuzzled at his knee with her nose, the only part of him within reach that didn’t require moving, and whined softly as she looked up at him with wide, soulful brown eyes. “Yes, thank you for the comfort darling. But...” he faltered in cleaning her fur and sighed, dropping the wipe. “It’s not enough tonight. I can’t figure you out right now, and I’m trying, but as bad as I am with human facial cues I really need them right now. I don’t _usually _have this much trouble when you’re in your Wolf form, but...” 

Rose chuffed, an annoyed sound, and stood. She made a point of shaking out her fur and undoing all of the soft finger-brushing he’d done, stalking over to the fire and letting her tail sweep in short, quick agitated strokes through the sparse grass and across the dusty stone as she sat heavily next to Ace, making a soft happy whine when Ace distractedly fondled her ears. 

The Doctor’s shoulders slumped and he curled in on himself under the overhang. 

“Okay, I give up,” Ace huffed as they made the long trek back to the Cheetaar camp the next day. “What’s up with you two?” 

“I can’t- I can’t even _touch her _right now without the bond we share screaming at me,” the Doctor sighed. “But I try, because some things are worth the pain, and it hurts more to be away from her than it does to be... to be with...” his head dropped as he drew a shuddering breath and collected himself. “I think it should be said, Ace, that I’m not open and emotional like this with anyone other than Rose. But I’m in so much pain right now that my brain to mouth filter is practically non-existent.”

“That bad, huh?” She replied sardonically. “Well, I hate to meddle in other peoples’ business. I really do. It’s a thing with me. So the fact that I’m gonna should tell ya just how serious I am. But you two need to sort stuff out. And when I say ‘stuff,’ I mean Rose needs to tell you what’s wrong with her, and you need ta tell her what’s wrong with you. Possibly in reverse order so that she actually says anything. 

“Because, mate, if we’re gonna get outta this then we need both of you with your heads on straight, and right now they’re not.”

“Ace...”

“You should listen to her, Doctor,” the Master said with a chuckle. The pair whirled around to see him standing there with a wide, malicious grin on his face and the Doctor glared at him. A growl was rumbling deeply in his chest and when the Master snickered at the sound his lips drew back to expose his sharper canines as he hissed at him in a decidedly feline way. “Oh, now that’s interesting. Finding those long lost primal instincts of our species a tad more easily of late are you?” 

“You know very well the reason for that,” the Doctor spat. His expression shifted into a scowl. “Why bother, anyway?”

“It causes strife and chaos,” the Master said simply, shrugging. “Two things I rather enjoy. And as I have said before, I’ve met Rose in her future and both of _our_ respective pasts.” He noted the non-comprehension on the Doctor’s face and shrugged again. “Not that I would expect you to remember. No, that occasion was quite... future-revealing. I imagine it would require a very strong memory lock with a very specific trigger. But suffice it to say, I know which boundaries I should and should not cross and how best to bring you to your knees through the one thing you can’t bear to lose. Being her. Or, rather. _One _of the things you can’t bear to lose, at which point in time there is only a singular object.”

“You make no sense at the current moment and I suspect your confusing me is purely so you can gloat over knowing something I am not currently aware of,” the Doctor sighed, rubbing at his temples. “Now. The teleport device you used to bring us here. I’ve scanned every single _nanometer _of this place and haven’t found any trace of the technology required for such a thing. Where is it?”

“Who says I required technology?” The Master asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking. “You and I both know that there are several species across the universe in multiple time sectors that have the natural - or unnatural but existing - ability to transport themselves through quantum entanglement wherever they wish.”

“I see. And you’ve found one such species I take it.”

“What sort of species wouldn’t run for the hills with the Cheetaar around?” Ace asked, frowning. 

“What indeed.”

“Well, that is for you to figure out _without _my convenient help, Doctor,” the Master laughed, clapping his hands together and backing away toward the camp. “Oh, feel free to follow me. Just be aware I’ve taken precautions.”

“No, ta,” the Doctor snorted derisively, lifting his nose into the air with a sniff. “We’ve got better places to be, thanks.” 

“We do?” Ace whispered.

“No,” he whispered back. “But I’ll be dead before I tell _him _that.” 

“So, where are we going if our plans for the afternoon are shot?”

“I thought that, perhaps, I might take a look at those mountain ranges,” the Doctor suggested, shoving his hands into his pockets as they walked. Ace scoffed.

“Right. The ones bursting with lava off their tops.” There was a beat of silence. “Seriously!?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, I’m not coming.”

“So you’re leaving me, on my own, with a bunch of lava.” The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “You’re placing a lot of _uncharacteristic _faith in my ability to not fall in, Ace.” 

“Nope. But I’m expecting you to take Rose with you so you guys can hash things out.”

“Oh, I _knew _there was a catch...”

The camp was mostly empty when they arrived save for Derek - who’d gotten heat stroke the previous day and was down sick - and Rose herself. While she spent most of the day hunting, she’d return periodically to the camp to check up on the teens and drop off anything she’d caught beforehand. On this particular day, Rose was making sure Derek was kept cool and out of the sun before heading back out. When she saw the pair of them approach she paused, frowning. 

“Thought you’d be gone longer.”

“The Master showed up and put a damper on his plans, but now he wants to jump into a volcano,” Ace explained. 

“I do not,” the Doctor sighed. “But I _do _want to scan the tectonic plates to get an overall stability of the planet. Knowing if we have days or months affects the desperation of our time table.”

“I’m not going with ‘im,” Ace said pointedly, giving him a look. 

“Well, you’re not going alone,” Rose argued, folding her arms across her chest and raising an eyebrow in challenge.

“Lost the pelt this afternoon? How very unlike you as of late,” he retorted sweetly. The huff Rose made as she exhaled hard out her nose was extremely loud. 

“Derek needed a compress on his forehead, I needed hands for that,” she snapped. As the argument continued, Ace tiptoed away and ducked under the overhang to sit next to her friend.

“No offense Ace, but your mates are bonkers,” he mumbled. 

“Yup,” Ace snickered, wincing as they started off down the hill, the argument still audible.

“I mean, you’re all... Katie Perry over there recently, and-“

“_What!?_”

“Hot and cold.” Rose waved dismissively. “There are times when you all but smother me, and then not ten minutes later you act like I’ve got a communicable skin disease.” 

“It’s the bond,” the Doctor sighed. It’s all but strangling me to-“ he let out a soft squeak as his entire face blushed and he rubbed at his neck awkwardly whilst clearing his throat. “Ahem. Anyway.”

“No no, go back,” She said amusedly. “What’s got your knickers in a twist then?”

“Ahm... well. And other times it hurts like blazes because-“

“It does not, I could tell,” Rose scoffed, tapping her temple. 

“I’m not supposed to-“

“To what, Doctor?”

“To... react... to your... proximity.” Rose’s brow furrowed. 

“Beg pardon? You told me, after we bonded, that-“

“Not... in _that _way,” he explained with an awkward swallow. “Not in the mental way...”

“I thought it was all purely mental for you lot.”

“It is... unless there’s a bonded couple with a marriage bond... ahm. That- that’s a- a conversation for another day. But I am, in fact, reacting in a mental way... I wasn’t completely honest with you when we spoke of the Challenge to the bond that first night here, Rose.” 

“You said you fixed it!” She huffed, exasperated. He ruffled his hair at the back of his head and rolled his eyes. 

“It’s the mental equivalent of putting a bucket under a leaky roof, Rose. Temporary. I couldn’t figure out how to tell you...”

“Tell me what?” Rose snapped, stumbling over loose gravel and yelping when she spotted a nearby river of cooling lava. “Y’know, I’m not sure that this is the best place to have a spat...”

“A volatile location for a volatile conversation,” the Doctor muttered, picking his way cautiously over uneven terrain. They’d exited the trees a few minutes prior and were now making their way slowly but surely up to the mountain peaks, but that first required a rather egregious trek across some limestone flats. He came to a stop at a particularly stable area and turned to face her expectant gaze with his entire focus.

“Well?”

“For most Challenges, what I did would have solved the issue,” he began with a wince. “But the Master made a strong one. The kind that can’t be solved with a good, cuddly mental connection like the one we shared. I’d hoped it _would_, but... you see, when he Challenged the bond, it activated some ah... well.” He scratched at an ear with a contemplative frown and she waited patiently for him to find the correct wording he was looking for. 

“Time Lords are Loomed, a process that takes the physical act of mating out of reproduction. It’s basically a fancy word for a progenation machine, and progenation machines are all about genetic engineering. Looms like to suppress baser, primal instincts and bury them as deep as possible, bonding and... ahm... mating, practices among those instincts. And when the Master Challenged the bond, it... took not just the instincts pertaining to bonding, but _all _of those baser instincts, and not only freed them from their suppression but put them on high alert. 

“Ever since we got here it’s as if there’s been an entire tower of Cloister Bells going off in my skull,” the Doctor confessed. Rose bit her lip. “Yes, you understand. Good. You see, as a Time Lord, I’m supposed to be in complete control of my bodily functions, and I don’t _have _control over those instincts because I’ve never had to contend with them before. I’ve spent the majority of this week trying to get them under control, and for the most part I’ve succeeded, but it appears that a few of them are hard-wired to be subconscious no matter what I do. It’s quite disconcerting, really. To have had complete control over your body’s functions your whole life and suddenly have to contend with a handful of new previously-suppressed instincts that you can never control...”

“So, these new instincts are what’s hurting you with the bond?” Rose asked quickly, recognizing the start of a potential ramble when she heard one and wishing to cut it off before it got legs and ran. The Doctor shrugged. 

“Not exactly. The Challenge activated the instincts, because... well... the only way to satisfy a Challenge of that severity is to prove to you that I’m the more worthy contender.” His nose wrinkled with distaste and despite herself Rose snickered. “So, there’s three ways of doing that. The first is proving that I’m physically capable of protecting you, but as you’re stronger and less... shall we say... _breakable_... than I am, that option clearly has nothing for it. Option two is to prove that I’m the most emotionally-attentive pick, and that I’ll recognize your needs and cater to them-“

“_That’s _why you’ve been smothering me the past week!?” Rose exclaimed, incredulous. The Doctor actually tugged at the neckline of his jumper as if wishing he could pull it over his head and avoid the conversation, but he gave a sharp nod of confirmation. “Oh my- I was about ready to get you committed, you loon. It’s not that it wasn’t appreciated, but too much of a good thing is still too much- wait. Wait a second.” She squinted at him as her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What’s the third option?”

“Proposing an Engagement Bond to strengthen the telepathic connection,” he squeaked, clearing his throat roughly and then coughing. Rose blushed crimson and tugged the hair stuck behind her ear in front of her face to offer a thin screen of privacy for a few moments as she processed everything that had been said. 

“So... this Challenge, thing,” she began almost conversationally. The Doctor’s eyes widened at the abrupt switch in topic direction and he swallowed nervously. “Since my mind reconfigured itself to be more Gallifreyan to be able to properly handle our bonds, would it have affected me as well? To maintain the thing, I mean.” He frowned slightly as he considered that, brow furrowing in contemplation.

“Mm... I suppose it’s probably likely. Your physiology is quite different from ours, but the way your brain has retired itself is more similar to-“

“Doctor.”

“Hm? Oh. Straight answer? Yes, at least on some low level if not to a greater capacity.” He blinked. “Why do you ask?” Rose bit her lip and huffed out a tired breath.

“You’re not the only one trying to act like everything was fine while you were dealing with weird instinct stuff,” she said pointedly, wincing and raising a thumb to nibble at a hangnail. “Um... see, when I was in my pelt, it was a lot easier to Uh... well, it’s easier to tell myself we’re- that you’re not- not compatible as a-“ she coughed awkwardly and noted with no undue relief that he was still blessedly ignorant. Good. It gave her more time to explain.

“...Okay?”

“See. I um. I’ve been really... territorial over you recently. In case you haven’t noticed. And it’s easier to pose a threat when I’m a Wolf. So, I guess wearing my pelt served two purposes... uh... Wolves are more... physical, than telepathic, despite being telepaths and empaths. And. And you might have wanted to... to make a stronger connection in my mind... but um... my uh. It’s hard to tell my body that I don’t want-“ she let out another huff and smacked her forehead, dragging her hand down her face and groaning with frustration. 

“I’m not... ready for... unless you... know what? I’m just. I’m just gonna tell it like it is. To show that we’re together, that we should be- well, you more than me- should be left alone because we’re both taken. Uh. My body wants to mate.”

“You want a mate?” He asked, head tilting slightly to one side in confusion. Rose bit back a scream of frustration and bit her lip until it bled, taking a deep breath before continuing. 

“No, biologically-speaking, I want _to _mate.”

“Mate with who?”

“Well, apparently it won’t be _you_ anytime soon, sunshine!” Rose finally exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air in defeat. She’d never been so exasperated in her life. Dawning comprehension finally appeared in eyes that widened almost comically as he blanched and stumbled backward a few steps, a nervous chuckle preceding the oncoming babble that fell like a waterfall from his lips. 

“Ah. Y-yes, I see the ah, the problem- with- with- well. I ah, well. I- I’m flattered, of course, Rose, but- but um, but you see, I’m still coming to terms with creating a bond in the first place and I’m not sure I’m ready for-“

“Hence the reason I’ve been trying to avoid you while not, exactly, avoiding you,” Rose sighed tiredly, placing her hand over his mouth and stopping him mid-tangent. He blinked, staring at her with wide blue eyes. Bless. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “It’s um... there’s this... when my species gets all... territorial, we like to... Mark each other,” she added awkwardly. “It’s a uh, a bite to the shoulder, that sor’ of scars... permanently.” Her toe traced in the dust at their feet as she looked down. “Jimmy was threatening to do that before I ran, so that I’d never be able to leave ‘im.”

After a few moments of mandated silence, he took her hand away from his mouth only to gaze at her with an unreadable expression before collecting his scattered thoughts. He cleared his throat.

“So, what you’re telling me is that I’ve been worried about the mere _idea _of _proposing _marriage, and you’ve gone straight past the proposing part instinctually to the marriage part,” he said slowly. “Just. Just so I’ve got that understood clearly.”

“...Yeah...”

“You had me worrying for nothing!” He exclaimed. 

“Oi, _you _were worried! All you did was talk about proposing! I was the one that had to go the extra awkward mile and talk about Wolf marriage!” 

“You’re forgetting the part where you also sort of propositioned me for sex,” he added, raising an eyebrow. Rose glared at him. 

“Wha- I did not! I told you I was avoiding you because I didn’t _want _to _accidentally _proposition you! I’ve got _some _class!” The Doctor opened his mouth to retort and was promptly interrupted by the top of the volcano right next to them exploding skyward. They both gaped at each other for a few moments, pale, before reluctantly turning around to look at it with wide eyes. 

“So... should we table this for later?” Rose asked nervously.

“Probably a good idea,” the Doctor muttered awkwardly, ruffling his hair until it somewhat resembled a bird’s nest it was so tangled. “What were we doing here again?” 

It was several moments of restraining herself from smacking him upside the back of the head before Rose could reply in a voice that managed to be reasonably even and devoid of emotion.

“You wanted to do scans to see how much time we had before the entire planet blew up and took us with it,” she said slowly. 

“...Ah. So I did.” They walked quickly up the rest of the particular mountain they’d chosen, the sense of urgency almost dogging their steps, and every time the ground trembled they moved faster. 

The top of the volcano was, thankfully, bubbly but not active, and with a hiss at the heat the molten rock was giving off the Doctor pulled out a device from his pockets to do a thorough scan.

“Anything I can do?” Rose asked. 

“Yes. Hold this,” he said as he gave her the end of a long steel cable. 

“What’re you-“ her eyes widened as he walked right up to the edge, fastening the belt attached to the other end as he went, and he stumbled backward as she gave a hard tug.

“I’m not climbing over the edge,” the Doctor assured. “But with the way things are unsteady at the moment, I want insurance in case I fall doing my scans. You’re more than strong enough to yank me a good several yards backwards if that’s the case, and I trust your enhanced senses to spot a tremor before it properly starts up.”

“Yeah, well, I’m gonna hold ya to that so that you can propose properly later,” Rose muttered. He paused in what he was doing to flash a look of surprise, mouth gaping slightly.

“Well, isn’t it too soon!? I thought human dating protocol says that-“

“We’ve known each other over ten years! And is this really the time to talk about this, you leaning over the edge of a semi-active volcano with nothing keeping you from a crispy demise but the cable I’m holding!?”

“I keep forgetting the loophole about first being friends prior to starting the romantic relationship,” he muttered, putting all the weight in the cable and his heels as the dirty white toes of his Zeds curled over the rocky edge and allowed him to extend the scanner farther over the lava lake inside the crater. “But, are you quite sure you want to get engaged? I’d be all too happy to move to that step, but it’s quite the commitment...”

“You do realize when we introduce ourselves anywhere they call us ‘Mrs. and Dr. Tyler’ because they automatically assume we’re married, right? And if this is you asking I gotta say you’re very lucky it’s me you’re asking, because if I were someone like Peri I’d be having words with ya. My answer’s ‘go for it,’ by the way.”

The Doctor’s fingers slipped on the scanner and he almost fell in, necessitating in Rose having to tug hard to help him keep his balance.

“I- is that a- a yes?”

“To the hypothetical proposal? Yep. Now concentrate, please. Quite like my fiancé to _not _look like he’s been put on a barbecue thanks.”

“What if... what if it... weren’t. Hypothetical, I mean.” Rose raised an eyebrow and he bit his lower lip to hide a grin, only half successful. “Yes, of course. Your silent way of saying ‘what have we been talking about for the last ten minutes.’ And the proper term, as we seem to be doing this the Gallifreyan way, is _‘Intended.’ _I mean. If you want.”

“Like that better than ‘fiancé,’ at any rate,” She replied with a shrug. “You done yet?” 

“Almost... got it...” Rose tensed as she sensed weak, building tremors deep in the Earth and sucked in a shaky breath, further securing her grip on the cable and waiting for the all clear. “Done!” She pulled as hard as she could. “Hey! What was that for!?” The Doctor asked crossly, brushing himself off as he stood and undoing the belt. Rose had already rolled the cable up for him and he blinked as she shoved it into his hands.

“In about half a minute the entire top’s going to blow on this thing,” she warned, sliding her hand into his and locking fingers. “Run!” 

No sooner had they gotten halfway down the slope than it went the way of Vesuvius, molten rock spewing high into the air and adding yet another layer of ash and soot to the already-compromised atmosphere. Looking over their shoulders made the panic worse; the wave of glowing orange would easily land on top of them at their current pace. With that in mind, Rose leant over slightly and scooped the Doctor up bridal style so that she could run faster; his reaction to the new situation was to tightly wrap an arm around her neck and go stiff as a bent-kneed statue, as if his entire body had shut down to try and process what had just happened. 

She all but threw herself off the steep ravine in their immediate path, curling her body as best as possible around his as they fell the long distance into the river below, and with an aching smack she struck the surface. The force of the blow sent a shock through her system, and with a grunt the Doctor pulled the both of them back to the surface to replace the air that had been knocked from their lungs with gasping breath. 

Balls of fire shot across the opening of the ravine overhead and they let the current of the river carry them away, deeper into the forests, until the cliff-sides lowered and they were eventually able to clamber out onto a grassy, smooth riverbank. Both came to a collapse on the soft grass flat on their backs, chests heaving as they struggled to take in contaminated air. 

“Well,” Rose wheezed, coughing and rolling onto her side, “that was an adventure and a half.” 

“I’m soaked _and _I’m covered in grass,” the Doctor complained with a grimace as he pushed himself into a sitting position and took stock of his person. “On the bright side, I’ve only sustained bumps and bruises...” 

“Just shut up and kiss me,” Rose sighed. 

~§§~

“How much time have we got?” Shreela asked nervously, pacing and rubbing her arms. The Doctor and Rose had returned to the camp to see that everyone else had already beaten them to it, all of them in varying states of panic. The couple had sat before the fire to dry off as the Doctor fiddled with his scanner, letting it process the results to see what the projected death date of the planet was.

“Not much,” he sighed, frowning at the readout. “At best? We have a week.”

“And at worst!?” 

“Half a week.” 

“Is that it!?”

“When the Doctor gives you a worst and best case scenario... it’s usually somewhere in between the two,” Rose said quickly before he could make the situation worse by expounding upon the questionable reliability of his hand-built scanner. “But either way, we need to get going. Now, we can stand to lose some food over the next few days if I help the Doctor and Ace scour the camp.”

“Why don’t we just build our own teleport?” Derek asked. Midge rolled his eyes.

“Did you hear nothing about the thing those catnip addicts was using was a different alien that could do it all natural-like, or what?” He snapped.

“Not now bootlicker,” Ace snarled, shouldering her way in between the two boys. She’d made it clear she no longer wanted any part of his company after learning he’d sold out two of their friends, and his incessant picking on Derek was slowly raising her ire to the tipping point. “Not unless you want to get some deodorant to take care of your stench.”

“Ace,” the Doctor chided, shooting her a stern glare. She met it before lowering her eyes submissively, conceding the reprimand. 

“That might not be a bad way to go,” Rose mused, toeing the girl’s rucksack with a scuffed black converse. “And I think I know just the person to give it to, too...”

“...You have a sadistic streak about you, do you know that?” He murmured, raising an eyebrow. She shrugged. 

“You got a better idea?”

“...No.”

“Great. Then I guess we’re going with plan ‘blow up the Master’ then.” Her eyes narrowed as she glared into the distance in the general direction of the Cheetaar camp. “Nobody tries to sabotage our relationship and gets away with it.” 

“...Rassilon, I love you,” he breathed. Rose smiled, leaning over to kiss his temple before standing and dusting her hands off on her thighs. 

“Come on, day’s still young. Gotta get going while the going’s good.” 

“Hey, wait for me!” Ace complained, jumping up and following after. The Doctor had no choice but to let out an exasperated groan, heave himself to his feet, and chase after the both of them. 

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered as he stalked into the woods and firmly meshed his fingers with Rose’s.

“And you need to get more sleep than every other week,” she challenged. “I’m not a regular human that struggles to keep up with you. Most times, _you _have a hard time keeping up with _me. _Oh, sorry. No offense, Ace.” 

“No offense taken,” Ace laughed. She shot a smug grin at the Doctor, who sighed. “You really do look pretty rough around the edges, Professor. I’d listen to her if I were you.”

«Not still having nightmares?» Rose asked softly in French. The Doctor blinked in surprise before mentally regrouping and replying in like kind. She barely bothered speaking another language other than English unless she wanted a private conversation, and for some reason the TARDIS all but treated her as a second pilot with the way she respected Rose’s wishes... 

...On second thought, never mind. Rose being treated like a second pilot made far too much sense considering what she meant to him, what he _Intended _her to mean to him, and the TARDIS’ existing across multiple points in space-time all at the same time...

«I am,» he admitted in response to Rose’s question, also in French. «But then again, having four teenagers living on a planet about to explode... it does bring back certain _other _teenagers on things about to explode...»

«Mm sorry.» 

“Professor?” Ace called from a little ways behind them. “Not that I mind the pair of you _parlez-vousing_, but I’m curious ‘bout something.”

“That something being?”

“Why don’t we just make a teleport for ourselves?” She asked. “You’ve gotta have enough odds and ends in your bigger on the inside pockets to cobble something together.” The Doctor winced as Rose laughed. 

“He left an egg of unknown origins in there and forgot about it,” she snickered. “And now it’s hatched and he has no idea what it is, so he doesn’t want to stick his arm in on the off chance it gets bitten off.”

“I’m teleporting everything in these pockets into a secure storage room the moment we get back to the TARDIS,” he muttered. “And Rose, if it’s an Armored Chameleon Rat, please feel free to hunt and eat it.”

“Nah, don’t need the calories,” she retorted. He scowled at her before letting out an involuntary purr against his will as she ruffled the hair next to his temples. “Y’know, I think I’m gonna like these uncontrollable instincts of yours...”

“That makes one of us,” he sighed. Rose’s expression softened and she leaned her head against his shoulder as they walked.

“I know you don’t like the lack of control, but honestly, it doesn’t matter to me,” she whispered. “And as soon as we get back to the TARDIS... and empty out your pockets looking for possible Armored Chameleon Rats... we’ll both get ourselves a scan in the med bay, okay?”

“That’s a deal I can get behind. But first, to threaten the Master with grievous bodily harm...”

They made short work of the remaining walk, and when they reached the camp they found that it was entirely empty. All of the supplies had been taken, many of the tents rolled up. 

“They left,” Ace said disbelievingly. 

“So it would seem,” the Doctor murmured thoughtfully. “Makes sense. Their camp was in the eventual path of the lava flow. Moving farther North, fording the river, would be their best chance.”

“Their only chance,” Rose said sadly. “But, the planet explodes...”

“This planet’s destruction, and that of its people, is a fixed point,” he sighed. “The sentient life that eventually dominates the solar system would have been millennia behind the Cheetaar, and are a far more docile race. If the Cheetaar had lived they would have become a war-like spacefaring race, taking their ritual hunting into the stars. In contrast, the Givaan people spread trade of mercantile wares that bring peace to several systems and trigger an era of prosperity.”

“Still sad,” she pointed out firmly, turning to face him and smiling sadly. “That’s why we fit. You tend to look at the big picture, but I look at the small. And we mesh those together and see the in between.”

“That we do.” 

“So the Master, he scarpered too?” Ace complained. The Doctor’s head tilted slightly as he sought out the only other Time Lord consciousness on the planet and blinked. 

“No, he’s still in the camp. Waiting for us, I imagine, with his teleport creature nearby to make a quick escape before the planet blows up.”

“Perfect, no audience.” Ace started across the camp with a quick, confident stride, and Rose hastily darted in front of her so that she was shielded from the Master. They approached the tent and, out of some sense of malicious glee in the proceedings, Ace knocked her knuckles hard against the wooden post next to the door flap before taking several steps back. The Master’s head popped out, an annoyed scowl in place, as he slipped out of the tent to confront them.

“Well? What do you want?” He snapped.

“A way off this rock, for starters,” Ace quipped with a smirk, rifling in her rucksack and pulling out a silver deodorant canister. She tossed it casually up and down in the air a few times before catching it and holding tight. 

“What sort of creature have you got that can fold space-time like that?” Rose asked far more calmly. “More importantly, could we borrow it.”

“Young lady, I hardly think-“

“I’m neither young nor a lady. Now answer the question.”

“No, I don’t think I shall,” he retorted with false geniality before neatly folding his arms behind his back and turning to the Doctor with a smile. “And seeing as I have no incentive-“

“The incentive is that I don’t shove a can of this highly explosive Nitro 9 up your-“

“What in Rassilon’s name is happening here!?” A voice exclaimed unexpectedly behind them. All four individuals spun to take in the newcomer, the Time Lords exchanging a brief and equally-confused glance, as a man with short brown hair and light grey-blue eyes picked his way carefully through the debris. He was smallish in stature and his face - dabbled with moderate stubble - seemed set in a permafrown as he smacked the device worn on his wrist. The white robes with the black over-vest and tassels seemed to pick up every speck of dirt they came into contact with, and if it were possible his scowl deepened. When he finally looked at the assembly gaping at him his tone was frustrated.

“This is certainly not the Royal Gardens of Thalespia Major,” he huffed. His eyes then widened slightly as he finally took in the other people. “Oh.”

“Who’s the bloke in the penguin suit?” Ace asked. 

“Narvin,” both the Doctor and the Master answered numbly at the exact same time.

“Marvin?” Rose echoed, confused.

“As in ‘Marvin the Martian?’” Ace added, equally confused. 

“No, ‘Narvin,’ as in ‘Narvin head of the CIA, or Celestial Intervention Agency of Gallifrey,’” The Doctor corrected, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He’s Time Lord.”

“He’s a nuisance,” the Master offered in addendum. The Doctor shrugged, not correcting him.

“Yes, because the opinion of the Master is always so highly received,” Narvin retorted sardonically. His tired gaze shifted to the Doctor and he winced. “Oh, don’t tell me...”

“Your guess would be correct, and I can assure you, the feeling is mutual,” the Doctor muttered. “But suffice it to say, your timing couldn’t be better. This planet is about to explode, and myself as well as these fine ladies, a human sergeant, and three adolescent humans, will die if we can’t get off of it-“

“You have a TARDIS,” Narvin cut in. “Decrepit as it may be.”

“And you have the wrong coordinates for Thalespia Major. Did The Lord Cardinal input them?”

“...Yes. Well.” 

“Look, if you get me back to my TARDIS, which is currently on Earth, you can use my database to find the correct coordinates you’re looking for,” the Doctor bargained. “And then you can be on your merry way, and I can return for my companions.”

“And the Mast- where’s he gone?” Narvin asked, raising an eyebrow as they surveyed the now-empty spot he’d been standing in.

“Tent’s empty, as well as the cage he probably kept the creature in,” Rose sighed, sticking her head through the flaps for a few moments before pulling it back out to properly address the group. “He took his chance to get away while we were distracted.”

“He’s not my concern anyway,” Narvin replied unconcernedly. 

“He should be,” the Doctor muttered under his breath. 

“I’ll take you up on your offer, reluctant as I am to accept.”

“Deal.” They clasped arms at the elbow, the thick band on Narvin’s arm glowing after the Doctor sonicked it, and the pair promptly disappeared.

“Now what?” Ace asked, the softness of her tone betraying her unease.

“Now, we head back to _our _camp, and tell everyone we’ve got a ride home,” Rose said with forced cheerfulness. The sudden lack of the Doctor made her head ache. “Come on.” 

~§§~

The TARDIS landed in the camp exactly four hours later, Narvin nowhere in sight, having left as mysteriously as he had arrived. The startled humans were ushered in by an impatient Ace and Rose and promptly delivered safe and sound to the rec center in Perivale; while Ace made her goodbyes, Rose slung her arms around the Doctor’s neck and kissed him lightly on the mouth. 

“Head hurts,” she whispered. He slid his temple against hers in a nuzzle and they both sighed as the proximity soothed the inflamed bond. “Better.”

“Sorry for the abrupt departure,” he murmured, moving his head to rest their foreheads together. “I hadn’t considered the effect distance might have upon our bond... truth be told, we’ve rarely left each other’s sides since we established it.”

“We have a lot of things to talk about,” Rose warned in a low voice. He sighed and nodded reluctantly, knowing there was no point in arguing. “But first, we need to get washed up for dinner.” 

“‘Dinner?’” The Doctor echoed, bewildered as she slid out of his embrace and walked deeper into the ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UP NEXT: AN INTERLUDE, FOLLOWED WARRIORS OF KUDLAK MIXED WITH AN ORIGINAL STORY.
> 
> Sorry if the ending seemed abrupt. I wanted it that way... the random appearance of everyone’s favorite resident Penguin was too good an opportunity to pass up on to me, and trust me Narvin will be explained more in the next chapter. Many things will. The abrupt, somewhat jarring ending is due to the fact that things are piling up faster than the Doctor can explain them, and they need to hit the pause button for a bit to regroup properly. This story arc may have resolved, but the over-arching theme has not, and I want them to continue to work together for unified resolution. 
> 
> My Discord chat group has a not so inside joke about “Narvin the Martian” so I figured I’d include it in here... art was made, Sean Carlsen - the voice actor of Narvin, a character mostly associated with the Big Finish Audio series “Gallifrey.” A link will be provided to the Wiki page for him in case any of you are curious, but the first link provided will be to the Tumblr post about the art I made that Sean Carlsen saw and got a laugh out of on Twitter.
> 
> Art:  
https://ask-the-almighty-google.tumblr.com/post/627444526867513344/so-i-made-some-art-of-narvin-and-since-i-dont
> 
> Wiki:  
https://tardis.fandom.com/wiki/Narvin


	39. Interlude: Xocolatl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No one ever says goodbye unless they want to see you again.”
> 
> \- John Green, “Turtles All the Way Down”

_Dinner._

The word kept replaying over and over again in the Doctor’s mind as he paced up and down, forward and backward, side to side, diagonal, and any other sort of which way a person could pace in a multi-level wardrobe room so filled with racks of clothes that it was a virtual fashion jungle that was far too easy to lose oneself in it and never see the simulated light of the external corridor ever again.

He was... pretty sure that it wasn’t supposed to be as ominous as it sounded. At least, as his over-active mind was _making _it sound... Rose wasn’t one to hide threats behind vague, innocent declarations.

...Was she?

“Look, I’m at a loss here,” he sighed exasperatedly, looking up at the ceiling as he paused in front of a rack of expensive tailored dinner jackets and white tuxedos. “Help. Please?” 

The TARDIS chuckled in her mind, her lights flickering as they flashed like runway beacons toward the staircase. He dutifully followed them down three flights of stairs and then past the other formal apparel, confusion growing more and more with every passing second. At last, she had him stop next to a rack of... 

...Cricket jumpers with red stripes, white oxfords with red question marks sown into the downturned collar, and cream and salmon striped trousers. His shoulders slumped.

“This isn’t exactly the answer I was looking for,” he muttered. “These are just my regular everyday clothes...” 

Quite literally every single other light in the wardrobe room seemed to burn out all at once, leaving just two above the clothing rack he was standing in front of. 

“Point taken... though honestly I have no idea what the point is.” Without any other option available to him at the present moment, he grabbed a new ensemble to replace the dusty, torn, and old ones he was currently wearing, the lights coming back on as he made his way to the exit... 

...And promptly stepped out of the door of his walk-in closet in his own personal bedroom. The Doctor took a few moments to mentally regroup at that unexpected detour and glared up at the ceiling.

“That’s cheating.” The light of his en-suite flickered insistently and he raised an eyebrow, making a point of exaggeratedly lifting his arm and sniffing at the pit with a dramatic inhale. It quickly turned into a wince; despite superior physiology, three weeks in the heat, ash, outdoors, and the same clothes really did do a number on one’s _odeur_. “Ugh. Point taken, Old Girl, point taken...” 

A quick duck into the bathroom for a thorough shower, some aftershave, and donning fresh clothes later - after a shave of course, he hated stubble - and he was nervously walking toward the control room. His coat was an absolute mess in need of a good wash, and of course there was the problem of the mysterious creature on the loose in the pockets...

“Hey you,” Rose said brightly, making him jump as she interrupted his thoughts.

“Oh, it’s you,” he sighed in relief. 

“Worried I was the creature in your coat?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. His own brow knit together in furrowed pondering at the question.

“Is it just that you know me that well, or have you developed some sort of blanket telepathic reception that I don’t know about?” He wondered. Rose rolled her eyes and walked over, standing on tip-toe and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. 

“Take a wild guess.” 

The Doctor smiled, taking a step back to observe her outfit in the hopes of gleaning a possible destination out of her, the smile fading somewhat when he took in her full appearance. 

It was... disappointingly ambiguous. Her petal pink dress was of a formal nature, the white jean jacket accompanying it fancy enough to easily go with it. But her leggings were a pair of strategically-torn washed-out skinny denim jeans, her shoes a beat up but clean pair of converse in a petal pink matching her dress. His gaze traveled up from her feet - lingering longer on her curves than he wanted to bother analyzing the reason for at that current juncture - and his jaw dropped. 

Rose had left her hair to dry naturally after a quick post-shower brushing, and as a result her natural soft waves-turned curls at the ends were fanned over and just past her shoulders. Her bangs had been pulled back by simple braids - two on the larger side of the part and one on the smaller - and she’d done her makeup naturally. Just the faintest hint of blush, barely any eyeliner, and light lip gloss...

“See something you like?” She asked cheekily - and oh, there it was, the flash of pink as her tongue caught between her teeth in between those glossed lips. 

“I... Ah. You’re wearing a- a dress,” he replied lamely. 

“So I am. Doesn’t answer my question.”

“I very much like,” he murmured, finally catching on. “Uh, what um, what’s the occasion?” 

“We’re going to see Ian and Barbara,” Rose reminded him patiently, her fingers catching on the sleeve of his jumper and leading him out of the console room and toward the corridor. “Come on.”

“But- but surely they’re _outside _the TARDIS,” the Doctor reasoned, confused. 

“Yeah, but I had to ring them about dinner, and they said they’d call me back about a date and time,” she explained. “So, I thought while we were waiting we could run those bio scans we talked about.” 

“Oh, those... right...”

“Does it make you nervous, coming face to face with all that stuff?” 

“Not as much as seeing the Chestertons,” he admitted. “I haven’t been in contact since my first incarnation, and I’m not exactly looking forward to explaining how I can be older than when they last saw me but wear the body of an entirely different and biologically much younger man.”

“You’re forgetting that Alistair was kind enough to put all of the people who travel with you in touch by phone after I asked him to,” Rose reminded as they entered the med bay. She obediently hopped up onto a bed and let the Doctor work the full body scanner as she talked. “The TARDIS sort of runs the group through my phone, but when we talk it’s always about a different version of you, yeah? And besides, Ben and Polly were more than happy to explain things. So was Sarah Jane, and-“ she trailed off, biting her lip, and decided to quit while she was ahead.

“And Tegan,” he finished for her, his tone strained but otherwise carefully neutral of his true feelings on the matter. The only thing that gave him away, even to Rose’s highly-attuned sensitivity to his tells, was the absolute misery flooding their bond. 

“For what it’s worth, she’s forgiven you,” Rose whispered. “But I don’t think she’ll ever forgive herself for the way you parted on bad terms.” Her fingers sought his out, prying open his clenched fist, and she wound them together before giving a reassuring squeeze of comfort. “I’m not sure either of you are ready to have a sit-down and work things out yet, or if either of you ever will be. But she knows you’re sorry, too.”

Rather than respond with words, the Doctor kissed the knuckles of the hand he was holding and projected a mixture of his hurt and gratitude across the bond. It was neatly tied into a dual package with a thread of ever-present devoted, besotted, adoring love, and Rose giggled softly at that before mentally tying it into a heart-shaped bow and sending it back via express mail. 

“Cheek,” he murmured, the upturn of his lips as he smiled tickling her hand as he kissed her knuckles one final time and let them go to page through the results on the scanner. “Oh, oh Rose...” 

“What?” She asked, sliding off the cot to stand beside him. He pointed out the scan and she inwardly thanked the TARDIS for showing an old scan next to the new one so she could see what was different. “Oh...”

Her entire brain activity seemed to have reconfigured itself, certain areas lighting up more than others in different places, and her chemical levels had altered slightly as well. 

“This area is your telepathic center,” the Doctor explained, pointing to a specific spot on her brain. “If I were to show you a Gallifreyan’s telepathic center- actually, you’ll see one once I get my scan- you’ll notice that the species signature patterns being emanated are identical.”

“So, what you’re saying is that I have a human brain but my telepathic signature registers as Gallifreyan,” she summarized, studying the chemical levels and wincing. “Oof. Well that explains a lot.”

“What does?”

“Insanely high levels of estrogen,” she murmured, entire face going red. “It’s... not important.” He blinked before shrugging. 

“If you say so.” With a single hop, he’d taken her spot on the bed and fidgeted impatiently as she set the scanner in motion. When it beeped completion he leapt back onto his feet and quickly scrolled through the information looking for specifics, also pulling up hers right beside his and pointing out the identical species telepathic signatures with a happy grin. When it got to the chemical analysis he pulled out his half moon specs and leaned closer to the screen, taking all of the information in and comparing it with a self-internal diagnostic at the same time. 

Certain chemicals were more slightly elevated than others, but within acceptable limits... others had been altered entirely into a new and worrying either _over_-abundance or _under_-abundance. 

The TARDIS chirped before helpfully pulling up old crew medical logs, ones he’d never seen before, and his eyes widened as they gave a comparison between his altered Time Lord TNA and the pure, unaltered TNA of an unknown Gallifreyan. The logs were so old they didn’t even have a time-stamp on them. 

“Ah...”

“What’s she tryin’ to tell you, do you think?” Rose asked curiously. He straightened and pocketed his specs. 

“She’s trying to tell me that my chemical levels are where they should be for a non-Time Lord Gallifreyan,” he explained. “All of the ones not pertaining to time, of course. Those are irrevocably altered for the rest of my existence.” 

“But all the ones tweaked and modified by the Looms, those ones have been taken back to where they should be?” He blinked at her in surprise, head tilting slightly as he considered and leant against the edge of the bed before blowing out a breath and ruffling his hair. 

“You really know how to throw me a Flight and Dip, don’t you?” He muttered. 

“A what?” Rose asked, complete non-comprehension adorning her baffled expression. 

“The Cricket equivalent of a Curveball thrown in the game of Baseball,” he answered distractedly, ruffling his hair again. It was now a rather frightful mess. “See, that’s the question, Rose. Is it back to where it’s supposed to be, or is it now where it _isn’t _supposed to be? I was Loomed with different levels for those chemicals. Time Lords don’t register that, and we’re like a sub-category of the Gallifreyan species in general. My levels aren’t _supposed _to be those of a regular Gallifreyan’s. On the other hand, Time Lord genetics are a purposeful permutation of the standard Gallifreyan base genetic code, and the manipulation changes the structure...

“...I suppose the question is: as a Time Lord, is it better for me to return to the natural genetic functionality or to try and suppress those chemicals again in favor of the Time Lord alteration?” 

“Is it harmful either way?” Rose questioned, frowning in general as she thought it through. 

“Hmm? Oh, no. Either way, my levels are within some sort of normality for either Time Lord or Gallifreyan. It’s just a matter of which would be more preferable...” His gaze slid to the side and focused on the - very interesting - blank white wall to avoid meeting hers. “...Though that would be up to you, I should think.” She blinked.

“How is that down to me? It’s _your _chemical levels we’re talking about here.” 

“I...” The Doctor wrung his hands together nervously, biting his lower lip - a nervous tic he only used when he was properly, extremely, anxious about something and always set alarm bells off in Rose’s head - and sighed. “Rose, I know there are certain things humans require in a relationship, and that if- when- _when _we eventually get married, you’ll need them... with- as I am right now, my instincts are more geared toward... well. Toward fulfilling... ehm... _husbandly duties_ that, with a fully Time Lord chemical panel, I would not find as- shall we say... enjoyable. As I would if I left my instincts as they currently were.”

“Hey, look at me,” Rose said softly, cupping his jaw in her hands and gently drawing him back to look her in the eyes. She was wearing one of the most tender expressions he’d ever seen, eyes shining with a depth of understanding he’d never been able to evoke from any other individual before her in the entirety of his lives. The pads of her thumbs gently stroked his cheeks, and though she leaned in toward him she kept their faces at a very reasonable distance so there would be no mistaking her words or their inflections. 

“I love you, for you,” she began quietly. “I loved you before your instincts got all jumbled up, and if you want to fix it then I’ll love you after. I won’t lie to you by saying that the idea of you... y’know... isn’t a tempting offer, or that us being in a cross-species relationship doesn’t have its issues. But it’s had issues before, and we’ve dealt with them together, and it’ll have issues after. And we’ll work through those together too. What I want you to do is to take the time to get used to your new normal before deciding if you want to hit the reset switch- so to speak- and get back to the old normal.

“If you make a choice that doesn’t make you comfortable, then you won’t be doing it for you, and it would hurt me to know that you made a choice for my benefit rather than your well-being. Okay? Promise me you’ll take the time to really think it over and- for once in your life- that you’ll be selfish about your final decision.”

“Promise,” he murmured, leaning forward at the same time as he pulled her toward him so that she was partially seated in his lap as their foreheads touched. 

“You better mean it,” she muttered. He laughed.

“Can’t break a promise I made to you. Actually impossible.” 

“Charmer,” she sighed, pulling away to flash a small smile that slowly widened as he matched it. She looked him over and nodded approvingly before snickering. “You clean up nice, but uh... Your hair’s a mess. Lemme just...”

The Doctor winced as Rose ran her fingers through it, snagging on tangles and working them out, but the smile remained. 

They both jumped as her phone buzzed, breaking the tender moment, and flashed one another a sheepish grin. 

~§§~

The second ring of the doorbell had barely faded its echo before the Doctor was turning on his heel to walk back up the walk toward the street.

“Well, it seems no one’s home,” he said brightly. “What a pity. We’ll call later.”

“Get back here,” Rose chided, grabbing him by the collar of his jumper and yanking him backward. “I suppose I should be glad you waited for me to ring a second time,” she sighed in addition when he moved to stand beside her once again and pouted. “Half expected you to bolt before I’d rung the first go.”

“It’s not _that _bad,” he whined, itchy feet shifting back and forth from the weight of his toes to his heels. “I’m just... nervous.”

“They’re _thrilled_. They _know _about regeneration, and-“ the lock in the door turned with an audible click as it began to open, and she grinned as his eyes widened. “And it’s too late to back out now.” 

“Rose Tyler, as I live and breathe!” Ian exclaimed, extremely fine laughter lines crinkling about his dark brown eyes out from underneath thick and somewhat shaggy dark brown hair. She grinned brightly at him and all but launched herself into his arms, causing the both of them to stumble backward into the entry of the house, and unwilling to follow them in the Doctor merely leaned slightly toward the commotion with an apprehensive look on his face. 

“Oh, Ian!” His hearts stuttered in his chest as Barbara’s voice filtered in through the open door, and a few moments later the woman in question stuck her head out to smile warmly at him. Her light brown eyes shone out at him through dark lashes, her still-dark brunette hair still defiantly modest if dated to the current times in an elegant style. Aside from a very few and faint laughter lines at the corners of her eyes and stress lines about her mouth, she still wore a very youthful appearance. “Hello, Doctor.” 

“You haven’t changed at all my dear,” he murmured, jaw slightly slack. Barbara’s smile faded somewhat into what was most definitely the acknowledgement of an oft-used phrase. 

“Yes, well, for the both of us being in our fifties, we look quite good on it,” she chirped knowingly, raising an eyebrow. “But enough of that. Please, do come in. If Ian’s done trying not to fall on the floor-“

“She unbalanced me!”

“-Then we should be just about able to sit down for supper.” She flashed the Doctor an amused eye roll at the indignant interruption of her husband and stood aside to let him in, something he did a bit hesitantly. Once inside, he allowed himself to take stock of his surroundings; aside from Rose all but squeezing the life out of Ian, the home was more of a cottage in the historic district of Cambridge proper than a house-sized house.

The exterior had had some wonderful and well-kept stonework, but the interior was quite modern and up to date for an English home in the 1980s. It was a tad messy but clean, something he could expect from two schoolteachers busy grading papers and writing up test questions, and his gaze was automatically drawn to the set of family photos sitting upon the mantle of the old stone fireplace.

Wedding pictures, pictures of a small baby... birthdays, as the boy grew into a teenaged carbon copy of his father with his mother’s kind eyes and a dash of freckles that stood out when he smiled. In other words... life. 

Behind the family pictures was another set of photos, exactly three of them, and he had to swallow as his mouth went dry. There, in the frame on the left, was Susan outside of Coal Hill School, and on the right was one of Vicki in the TARDIS. In the center was one of his first incarnation - wearing a toga of all things, it must have been shortly after Rome - with Ian and Barbara in their usual apparel. 

Funny... he didn’t remember having that one taken... then again, it had been centuries ago and a photo was a trivial thing in the grand scheme of his existence. 

“That was a day and a half,” Ian laughed, causing the Doctor to startle at the unexpected proximity as the man was directly behind his shoulder. “First time we met the pair of you, as a matter of fact...”

Well, that explained why he didn’t remember getting the photo taken. Knowing Rose, it was probably her that had snapped it with the camera. 

“Ian!” Barbara hissed. “Timelines!”

“Oh, come on, they _told us _that we told them we’d met before,” Ian countered with an eye roll and a shrug as he wandered over to where his wife was standing with her arms crossed over her chest and slung an arm around her waist. “Really, Barbara. Travel throughout all of space and time, yet forget that if they happened to mention something it meant we’d already told them?” He _tsked_, the tip of his tongue clicking against the back of his teeth, and Barbara smacked him in the chest before extricating herself from his grip and stalking into the kitchen. 

Rose met the Doctor’s gaze from across the room and bit her lip to hide a smile, her sparkling eyes fooling no one. 

_Antics_, she mouthed, suddenly putting her hand across her mouth and pretending to cough as Ian turned toward her. He raised an eyebrow, his expression suspicious, before smirking and following his wife out of the room.

“Be honest, this is going a lot more smoothly than you thought it would,” Rose challenged as soon as he’d gone. The Doctor shoved his hands into his pockets with a sigh and nodded, gaze being drawn back to the pictures. He’d... well. Twenty-odd years of his friends’ lives and he didn’t know a jot of any of it. They were married, were parents. He didn’t even know what the lad was called or what their current employ was now that they’d moved to Cambridge. Had Barbara given it all up to be a housewife and recently returned to the scene, or had they hired a nanny when the child was younger? 

“There’s so much I’ve missed,” he murmured. It hadn’t been what he’d intended to say at all. The end of that sentence was supposed to be the words ‘I don’t know,’ but he’d substituted almost unconsciously. It was more accurate, he supposed, but still... 

“Well, now’s the time to make up for it,” she said patiently. “Starting now, at dinner, old friends catching up.” A small, playful smirk slightly turned up the corners of her mouth. “Imagine it from their perspective, Doctor. You’ve got twenty years to catch up on, they’ve got five centuries.” The statement was enough to elicit a short bark of surprised laughter from his person, and she grinned properly at him when he made the sound, jerking her head toward the door of the kitchen. “Come on mister. Let’s mingle.” 

He followed her, helplessly like a sailor following a siren, deeper into the house. 

Barbara was standing at the stove, Ian passing behind her with a towel slung over his shoulder as he moved to the sink and washed the superfluous dishes. Both of them were humming a soft, idyllic song in perfect tandem - something that made up for the less than perfect timbre of their voices meshing together - and there was an easy familiarity in the way they shared the space that had something in the Doctor’s chest aching. They’d learned to work together on the TARDIS, the partnership dynamic seeming to carry into their marriage, and once more he thought of all the time he’d wasted pretending he could go back at any time he wished to visit. 

Truth was, it was always a thing with him... he hated goodbyes. Hated saying them, hated endings. 

...And yet. 

Seeing it now, seeing them living their lives without him, with only a trio of pictures and their memories of their time together...

“Your things,” he blurted out suddenly, causing the pair of them to look over at him over their shoulders from their respective positions about the kitchen. Suddenly the center of attention, he cleared his throat and awkwardly ran his fingers through his hair. “On- on the TARDIS. From our time together. She’ll have preserved your bedrooms... if- if there were any souvenirs, or...” 

“I’d love to grab my scrapbook,” Barbara said quickly, smiling. There was a sympathetic tinge to her voice and features that suggested she was taking pity on him for his unease, and while that would have irked him in quite literally any of his previous bodies - and admittedly his current one - he was too tired after their _Lord of the Flies _vacation to find the energy to be even faintly annoyed. It was appreciated, actually, the easy out she was giving him. He seized it and followed the conversation thread.

“Wonderful. Ah... after dinner, then?”

“Sounds good.” 

“Smells amazing by the way, Barbara,” Rose broke in sweetly; the Doctor breathed a sigh of relief and murmured a few words of complete adoration and devotion toward her in his native tongue for picking up on his need of a rescue, making sure to explain the meaning of such untranslated words through their empathic bond. “So? What are we having? Or is that a state secret until we get to the table?”

“I thought I’d make something simple but classy,” Barbara replied. “I’ve got a bottle of Sangiovese-“

“Oh, Rose doesn’t-“

“_And _a sparkling cider, alcohol free,” Barbara finished, raising an eyebrow at him as if challenging him to interrupt again. Wisely, his mouth snapped shut and stayed like that as she waited a good few moments before nodding in approval and continuing. “A shrimp Alfredo, on a bed of penne, with a salad starter.”

“I made fresh garlic bread from scratch,” Ian added proudly from the sink. 

“Yes, so if it’s inedible that isn’t my fault,” she retorted with a smirk. She yelped as he smacked her with the towel and turned toward him, hands on hips. “Ian!” 

When they eventually sat at the table for dinner, the Doctor couldn’t help but fidget his legs underneath the convenient line of sight-blocking furniture. His knee bounced wildly, his toes tapping out a quick staccato that transitioned into a bit of a tango when Rose tried to pin the one nearest her down with her own foot and he tried to evade. Eventually, she gave up being surreptitious; she ‘accidentally’ knocked her napkin on the floor and smacked his calf with an audible noise that she played up as her head hitting the bottom of the table and he covered his reaction to it by biting down on a piece of garlic bread. 

Chit-chat was sparse, mostly catching up on one another’s lives. Ian and Barbara had both gone back to university to qualify to teach at the higher academic level shortly after their only child, John, had been born, with Barbara putting herself through school first to be able to watch after him and then, once she had got her doctorate, they had switched. She’d begun teaching again at a local community college while Ian watched after their now-four year old son and put himself through school, and when it was over and done with they’d both worked at the community college whilst applying for larger and more permanent careers. 

Quite by chance, they were recommended by a Professor Chronotis at Cambridge, an old tenure who had taken more of an interest it seemed in the missing two years they’d been gone in the TARDIS than in their actual academic career. The Doctor was left to awkwardly explain that Chronotis was an old friend of his, and also a Time Lord, and that he had seen their timelines and knew they had traveled in time in the TARDIS. The pair had taken it extremely well, all things considered, and Ian even remarked they he quite liked the idea of being able to discuss space and time travel with someone who wouldn’t consider having him sanctioned. 

Inevitably, the topic of their aging came up and he had to further explain that, when the TARDIS had broken down and trapped them inside due to a core malfunction, they had been exposed to an amount of Artron radiation - time radiation - that went above normal exposure levels. Harmless in and of itself, but the absorption of the energy into their cells had caused their aging to incrementally slow. Not enough to make any such difference more than an extra ten years or so, but all the same it hadn’t occurred to him until he’d seen the effect it had had that they would have been affected. 

A sheepish apology was tacked on that was quickly accepted with surprisingly little further questioning.

Throughout the meal, the Doctor had actually begun relaxing bit by bit; Rose was a good buffer, taking the brunt of his reticence in the conversation by asking and answering questions about the Chestertons’ adventures and her own, and after the information about Chronotis and their aging had been so well-received he only relaxed further, becoming more open as the night wore on. He was pleasantly full from a wonderful meal, the wine left a light buzz that didn’t impact his senses in the slightest but still gave a vaguely warm and fuzzy feeling in the pit of his stomach, and the company was both familiar and welcome. 

In fact, such was the level of relaxation the Doctor reached, that when Rose made a harmless comment about a comet they’d chased, he couldn’t help but lean in and lightly press a chaste kiss to the edge of her lips as she described the flashing of the stars and the swirling of the nebulae they’d passed by. She responded by nuzzling lightly against his shoulder, leaning into his touch, and wound their fingers together on top of the table. 

It took a few moments for the silence from the other side of the table to register, and when it did he froze and shot a wary glance across it only to see that both of his old friends were watching them with soft, warm smiles. When they realized he knew they were watching, they turned their attention to the remains of their dinner and changed the topic to what John was thinking of doing with his career - it seemed every teenager of the time wanted to be in a band, but he was making a good go of it under the stage name of ‘Johnny Chess,’ and even if it wasn’t quite the path they had expected nor wanted for him, he truly had the makings of a career if he kept at it. 

The easy acceptance of his and Rose’s relationship released one of the last remaining knots of tension the Doctor possessed over the evening and he didn’t bother to refrain from moving his chair closer to hers or leaning into her touch when she cuddled slightly into him. Ian and Barbara were in much the same seating arrangement direct across from them, themselves. 

In fact it struck him, as he was helping wash the dishes while Ian cleared the table and the women took it upon themselves to try and jigsaw some room for the leftovers into the fridge, that this was pretty much par for the course a normal evening for him. Not the company at friends’ houses, of course, but the easy manner in which he and Rose took the time to make a nice meal together and then worked in tandem to clean it up. After which they moved to a more comfortable locale and let themselves unwind for the evening, which their little group was planning to do in front of the fireplace of the living room. 

They’d left Ace aboard the TARDIS with the knowledge that they would be immensely late coming back, she was allowed to redecorate her room however she wished with the help of the ship, and that the media room had access to every game, movie, and television channel she might wish to peruse, so that was yet another one less worry to draw him toward making an exit in the activities. He was actually... looking forward to filling up the remaining time they had for the evening with Ian and Barbara, though he studiously avoided thinking about the eventual end of this rather lovely break from his otherwise-reclusive reality. 

A light hand on his shoulder broke him out of his thoughts, and he turned to see Barbara waiting patiently for him to notice her.

“Doctor, your future self told me that I had to tell you something,” she began on an intake of breath. It was clear she was apprehensive about this situation. 

“Go on,” the Doctor encouraged with a small, bemused smile. She seemed to take the smile more than the words as reason enough to continue and forged ahead. 

“Sometimes, things need to be said the right way... and not on the edge of a volcano... sometimes... sometimes even the simplest things, like the preparation of a drink, make the best form of popping the question.”

“Barbara,” he interrupted softly, eyes wide. Now more confident in her duty, she fixed him with a no-nonsense look and forged ahead.

“And I don’t even know what you were thinking, leaving things like that,” she continued sternly. “So, suffice it to say, I’ve got all the fixings for a cup of cocoa in this kitchen and I daresay it’s about time you do something about it. Now, Ian’s getting the fire going in the den, and I’ll finish up with these dishes. Get a move on.”

“But-“

“Remember, I’ve got authority from your future self to tell you off like this,” Barbara reminded him with a raised eyebrow. “He didn’t give me any specific words so much as tell me my verbally kicking your rear into gear was the reason you proposed, and by God if I’m not enjoying this a tiny bit.” She made a shooing motion with her hands and took his place at the sink to finish the dishes as the Doctor frantically set about searching for the necessary ingredients required in the preparation of hot cocoa. 

...This was not how he had envisioned the rest of the evening going, and now his stomach seemed to be filled with flutterwings as he strove to push down the sudden anxiety of a looming proposal he’d assumed he’d already given. But his future self had made a point of saying it needed to be done properly, most likely remembering the act itself... points to the old boy for getting Barbara to be his messenger, she had an iron will and a sharp tongue from years of dealing with unruly schoolchildren... and Ian.

Who could be a bit of an unruly schoolboy himself if he put hit mind to it.

The Doctor held the two mug handles in each set of trembling fingers, willing himself not to spill any of it as he walked toward the fireplace where Rose was sitting. Ian had passed him in the hallway coming back to grab himself a mug of decaf coffee, and the two of them were alone in the dim light of a room illuminated only by the fireplace and a couple of weak lamps. 

“This for me?” Rose asked, smiling as he sat beside her and anxiously handed her one of the mugs. Her eyes fluttered closed as she inhaled the sweet aroma and took an appreciative sip, and he took the moment to swallow back the nervous ramble he could feel building on the tip of his tongue before taking a deep breath and going ahead with things before he could think of a reason to talk himself out of it. 

“Mm... Hot Chocolate. Do you know, it has its origins in the Aztec drink ‘Xocolatl?’ Of course, there are multiple kinds from other cultures of Mesoamerica, and their versions were more bitter, and they used spices rather than sweets to temper the flavor, but... ahem. Do you know there’s a ah- a sort of ritual meaning for when someone prepares a Xocolatl for another?” Engaged as he was in the conversation neither of them noticed Ian standing in the doorway with a slack jaw, nor did they see Barbara wrapping her hands around his arm and dragging him back into the kitchen to give them a moment of privacy. 

Rose glanced up from her beverage, eyelashes fluttering as she bit her lip in amused bemusement and shook her head slightly.

“Nope. But I can take a guess that you’re gonna tell me.” 

“It’s a... well, it’s sort of a... proposal.” 

She put her mug down to give him her full attention, and while her expression was carefully neutral there was a glimmer in her eyes that made him wish he’d asked earlier. The way she looked at him... 

Something like nervous, happy anticipation fluttered across their courtship bond despite her best efforts to shield it and he swallowed, impatient for her answer but also dreading it in case it wasn’t what he was hoping for. 

“I... I love you, Rose. And I... I was wondering if- if we could strengthen our telepathic bond.”

“I’d like that,” she whispered, leaning into his shaking fingers as he brought them up to her temples. 

Their bond burned brightly for a few moments before they both felt a electric shock race through their bodies, the thin strands pulling taut and thickening, and Rose gasped at the warning it seemed to emanate, a warning of intense pain should such a connection be severed. Instead of balking at the intensity, Rose mentally surged forward to meet him in a telepathic equivalent of throwing her arms around his neck and the Doctor sighed into the collision, the bond moving past its warning and soothing into a tight but comfortable entwinement instead.

Where the courtship bond had allowed them to be very loosely connected at the base emotional level, the engagement bond brought them into one another’s minds. Not fully, but with skin touching skin it was all too easy to knock on the metaphorical door of one another’s consciousnesses and gain entry. 

_Love you, love, love, you, only you, saving grace, love, love you. _

It was like a broken record playing on a loop in the Doctor’s head mixed with a catastrophe of other thoughts in Gallifreyan and Rose soothed the scattered ensemble with a tender press of her lips against his in the corporeal world, briefly marveling at the way it all fell silent at her simple touch before he gently nudged his nose against hers in a contented nuzzle. 

She opened her eyes to find his directly in front of her, bright sparking blue crinkled at the corners as he smiled and pressed a soft kiss against her lips. 

_Hello, _he whispered in her mind, and She blinked at the sound before nuzzling him back with her own nose and returning the soft, affectionate greeting.

_Hi._

_Love you._

_Nice. You still have to tell Barbara she was right._

_Must I? What if..._ he pressed another, slightly more insistent, kiss against her lips and she huffed in amusement before giving him a mental shove toward the ‘exit door’ in her head. 

_Go on, you. _He sighed before lightly extricating himself from their mental embrace, leaning back into a more comfortable sitting position.

“Barbara? Barbara you were right,” the Doctor called. A few moments later she appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a satisfied smirk on her face.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” she teased. 

“Johnny’s out past curfew,” Ian offered, slipping past her into the room and peering out the window.

“I said ‘something I don’t know,’ Ian. He’s fine, he called to ask if he could stay over at a band mate’s for the evening. Apparently they’re getting close to finishing their original song.” 

“Well, better in someone else’s garage than mine,” Ian sighed, shrugging and plopping down onto the loveseat across the room from where the Doctor and Rose were sitting on the padded window box. He draped his arm over the back and Barbara sat beside him, snuggling contentedly against his side and staring into the fireplace. “Nothing worse than having a set of drums banging away at all hours of the night,” he added, raising an eyebrow. 

“I was in a band when I was my species’ equivalent of his age,” the Doctor offered with a smile. “At least, I think it was a band. Hard to say when there were only two people, no sheet music, and the instruments were pieced together from whatever we could find in the bins, really... and we didn’t really practice together so much as make a bunch of noise that summoned our dormitory hall monitors and nearly got us suspended...” He sniffed. “My people have no sense of taste.” 

Rose giggled at that and he arched an eyebrow in mock-affront, poking her in the side in retribution and nodding satisfactorily to himself when she squeaked in indignation. 

~§§~

The rest of the night passed in much the same casual manner, and when the clock read 9:53 Rose patted the Doctor on the knee and stood. 

“It’s getting late, and they have work tomorrow morning,” she said by way of explanation in answer to his puzzled expression. “And while Barbara is too polite a host to tell us we’re overstaying our welcome, I think Ian’s about ready to go and get his bathrobe...” 

“I would not,” Ian huffed, unsuccessfully stifling a yawn. Barbara rolled her eyes and stood as well, turning and nudging him with her foot. 

“I’ll get you some of the leftovers,” she offered as she disappeared into the kitchen. 

“And I suppose I should get those knickknacks out of the TARDIS,” Ian groaned as he sat up and stretched. 

“Help yourself,” Rose offered, tossing him her key. He caught it easily and stepped out the front door, walking toward the Police Box sitting with its lights shining out on the darkened street just at the end of their driveway. 

“This is the part I’ve been dreading,” the Doctor murmured softly from the window box, a lost expression on his face as he slowly walked over to where she was standing. His hands hung limply at his sides, periodically clenching and unclenching as if trying to hang on to the time slipping through his fingers. 

“You know, ‘no one ever says goodbye unless they want to see you again,’” Rose said with a soft smile. He blinked, head tilting slightly to the side as he considered that statement, the soft unspoken words _It’s from one of John Green’s books _lightly flirting across the bond as she twined the fingers of their hands together and loosely held it. 

“I’m not sure what to make of that,” he admitted. 

“I think it means whatever you want it to mean. Just ‘cause someone said it, doesn’t mean you have to take their interpretation of it too.” She wrapped her arms around his waist as she leaned into his side and dropped her chin heavily in the center of his chest, resulting in him letting out an _oof _as some of the air was expelled from his lungs. “I think that it could mean a beginning. The first of many visits to old friends.”

“...I think I like that interpretation too,” the Doctor murmured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UP NEXT: WARRIORS OF KUDLAK MIXED WITH AN ORIGINAL STORY.
> 
> So, due to the mix of original episode and episode rewrite, the next story arc will take longer to put up than usual. This is not due to the difficulty of the storytelling, but rather because I will be posting both parts of it in tandem. The subject matter is... heavy, and I don’t want people to have to deal with cliffhangers. 


	40. Sticks and Stones I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Housekeeping notes: Removed rewrites of “Voyage of the Damned” and “Cold War” to add one more original story, and while I intended to have “Warriors of Kudlak” be part of this I couldn’t work it into the text in any way that made sense without detracting from the major heartfelt portion that is supposed to be the main focus. Apologies if you were looking forward to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PART 1 OF 4.

“Tell me again why we need a pair of armchairs in the console room,” the Doctor began patiently, arms crossed loosely over his jumper-clad chest as he and Rose emerged from the galley the next morning to check in on their companion. Ace had completely redone her room, the walls covered in what looked like neon glow in the dark strings of multi-colored spray paint over a black base, with a thick shag carpet and mood lighting. All of the furniture looked like it had been taken from a rock club after a bar fight had broken out, and yet the beaming, proud grin on Ace’s face when she’d shown them indicated that it was currently the perfect fit for her aesthetic tastes. 

She’d mellow out a bit as she grew up, but Rose was adamant they never visited the 90s lest she was accidentally exposed to grunge an entire decade too early. 

The one additional modification Ace had conspired with the TARDIS over wasn’t an addition to her room, and when the pair had returned the previous night they hadn’t been there. Oh no. They’d mysteriously shown up after everyone had gone to bed - even the Doctor, who rarely got more than two hours every week, had needed a full four just as Rose did to recover from the ordeal of living rough for three full weeks - and had been there when they’d stumbled into the console room that morning. 

While the room itself hadn’t changed all that much, it appeared that the wall direct to the left of the door to the rest of the ship - when one was coming _into _the console room from that direction - had been cut out into a small alcove with a thin platform, and two cream-colored plush armchairs had taken up residence there. Their legs were bolted to the platform, and they were angled slightly toward one another so that they weren’t straight off of the recessed wall. It was clear that shenanigans had ensued once he was asleep. Hence the reason they were now, all three of them, standing in the console room staring at them with him patiently awaiting a proper response as to their necessity.

“...Well, Ace likes to read when we tinker under the console, and when I can’t help with anything I like to ogle,” Rose reasoned, smirking and high-fiving Ace as the Doctor let out a soft strangled cough and looked to the ceiling with an awkward hand motion through the air in front of him. “What? Something I said?” She asked innocently.

“You know very well what it was you just said you minx,” he muttered, studiously avoiding her. He let out a long, exasperated sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose before shoving both hands into his pockets and rocking back on his heels. “Now. Is there anywhere in particular you’d like to go?” 

“Earth, any time after I disappeared,” Ace said quickly, eyes lighting up with excitement. “London if you can manage. I want some band posters for my walls!”

“Sounds good,” Rose said with a shrug. “I need to take a look to see if we’ve got anything in, but my suspicion is that we need to make a Tesco’s run anyway.”

“Earth, London, sometime after 1986, but not _too _long after so that Ace can still find posters...” he murmured to himself as he circled the console and input the specifics, smiling as the tiny rotor chugged up and down with its trademark wheezing sound. They landed with the softest touch-down yet and the smile turned into a blinding grin as he turned to Rose and leant against the console. “And the best performance review for maintenance this ship has ever received, thanks to a certain someone...”

“You tinker all the time, trying to keep the Old Girl in tip top shape. She’s doing so good now because two people can actually match pace with the required repairs,” Rose argued with a laugh as Ace flicked the scanner on and surveyed the outdoors. She beamed and all but skipped to the door, letting herself out, and Rose turned sharply to call to her. “Oi, just remember to be back her before nightfall!”

“Yes, Mum!” Ace shot back sarcastically, rolling her eyes before taking off down the street. Both adults shook their heads in fond exasperation before turning back to one another. 

“So, shop list?” The Doctor inquired, nodding his head toward the corridor.

“Yep.” They began walking, though he cast one last glance at the new alcove and armchairs before it disappeared from view.

“Do you really ogle me when you’re not helping with repairs?”

“Yep!” 

It was fifteen minutes of searching through the fridge, freezer, and cupboards before they managed to take decent inventory of what they did and did not have. Usually such a task was far easier to accomplish, but on this particular day the TARDIS seemed to be in a playful mood and had mischievously done her best to exasperate her male Pilot and amuse her female one. Oh, yes. To her, they were both her Pilots, would be, presently were, and had already been. Despite the reality being that her Wolf did not currently know how to fly her, the TARDIS responded to her as if they had already forged the link between craft and operator. If her Wolf asked to be taken somewhere, that was where she would go. 

More often than not she would listen to the whims of her Wolf rather than her Thief, but that was to be expected, really... what with their... well. Her Thief liked to say that the pair of them had been very Bad for what they’d done. Or would do. 

..._Tenses.._.

Anyway. Having her Thief dig through floor cupboards and shutting the doors on him, only for him to find the exit from a wall cupboard and nearly fall on his head, was making her Wolf laugh. Because her antics were making her Wolf laugh, her Thief took it all with a long-suffering grace and acceptance of said antics that in any other instance he would never have let the TARDIS get away with. But when she smiled... the TARDIS could get away with anything by association if it made their mutual Wolf smile. 

Time knew she’d need plenty of it now with what was going to happen very shortly after...

...Well. They both did.

“Nearest Tesco’s,” the Doctor mused, stepping out of the TARDIS and shoving his hands into his pockets as he looked about. “Now where-“ pain, nostalgia, guilt, torment, fear, anxiety... and about sixty or seventy other fringe emotions mashed together in strange concoctions he couldn’t even begin to place slammed into him over the bond with the force of a monsoon and he stumbled, gripping the doorframe of the TARDIS to remain upright as he turned to Rose and immediately gathered her into his arms. 

Comfort, then questions. Remarkable, the way priorities suddenly rearranged themselves when it involved someone you cared so deeply about. He was tentatively feeling out the bond for the source of the maelstrom before it even occurred to him to do so, and a brief flash of the street made its way with surprisingly little pomp and circumstance to the forefront. A second image of the same street, but this one he knew via telepathic instinct to be from her memory rather than from visual input, joined the first, and several more were soon to follow.

“This was your neighborhood, wasn’t it?” He asked softly, holding her head against his chest. “And it’s not that long after you left it.”

“Give or take a year of being missing,” Rose sniffed, leaning back and swiping at her nose with her sleeve before snuggling back into his embrace. “Jimmy’s still here, and my mum, and I can’t... I can’t go and see her, because... If I do, word’ll get around the estate, and Jimmy’ll show up, and if he thinks my mum is hiding something, he’ll...”

“We can avoid that,” the Doctor said gently, a slight furrow of worried contemplation creasing his brow. Even when they’d been on Gokroth, she’d never been this timid. Yet the mere thought of Jimmy Stone, and... “We’ll get to Tesco, and we’ll get out. All right?” 

“Needs to be quick,” she muttered, but nodded. 

His arm was wrapped tight around her waist as they walked, drawing her close against his side, and with her expert knowledge of the area finding their objective was almost ludicrously easy. When they got to the Tesco, however, another problem presented itself. 

“...Yeah, this might be an issue,” Rose muttered, raising an eyebrow as she picked at the bottom edge of a missing poster for herself. “Gotta say, that picture’s less than flattering.”

“Awwww, you still had a bit of baby fat.” The Doctor actually _cooed _the sentence, eyes bright and adoring without a trace of mischief or snark either in his tone or in his body language. “Rose, you were an _adorable _adolescent.”

“Shut up and give me your hat,” she muttered, face flaming with embarrassment. “Hopefully this coloring’ll make people think I’m a vacationer that got way too much sun and is now wearing a hat out of necessity.”

“Or I could give you a pair of sunglasses, you could scowl at everyone, trip over a few loose floor tiles, and they’d assume you were hungover,” he suggested, raising an eyebrow as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the Panama hat with the red stripe, unfolding it and punching the dome to get the kinks out before promptly handing it over. 

“Brilliant, hand ‘em over.”

“...If you say so.” He blinked at her appearance and sighed. “Subtle.”

“You do realize my mum knows literally everyone on the estate right? And with my face on all the milk cartons...”

“Is that seriously something that people do?” The Doctor asked, completely forgetting the reason for such a line of inquiry despite the missing poster fluttering directly in their faces. He’d switched immediately into enthusiastic curiosity with the skip of a heartsbeat and a look of vaguely baffled wonder, and sighing to badly mask a grin Rose brushed his bangs out of his face.

“Not so much anymore, but yeah, that’s something people used to do, in certain places,” she answered. 

“Your species is absolutely fascinating,” he all but purred, rocking back and forth on his heels and grinning. “Do you know, you’re the only species that does that sort of thing? Milk cartons, of all places.” 

“Yeah, and I’m a wanted gal right now because of it,” she reminded him patiently, tipping her head slightly and angling it so that she somehow managed to give him a visible eye roll both from underneath the hat and _over _the pair of sunglasses. “And if we run into Bev debating the pros and cons of 2% over 1/2% with my face on both of ‘em then we’re done for.”

“Who’s Bev?” 

“The Alistair to my mum’s Doctor.”

“Ahhhhh. Well, tell you what, we just avoid the dairy section.”

“Well, then we’ll find her among the biscuits!” the withering look she received in return spoke volumes. “Right no dairy. Fine. Not like we need cheese to go with wine anyway.” 

“Do you know, I actually enjoy doing the shopping with you?” The Doctor inquired with a raised eyebrow. “But this is verging on ridiculous.” Rose blinked, then swayed her hips ever so slightly and flashed a sultry smile.

“Well, if she comes around the corner, I may just have to snog you against the shelves in the crisps aisle.” 

“T-that that would be- ah- that is to ah- to- to say- um- what was the reason for that again?” 

“More and more tempted to forget the shopping and just snog you against this wall,” Rose mused contemplatively, smirking as his eyes widened and then sashaying through the automatic sliding doors, still wearing his hat to shade her features. He blinked, then moved to follow and bumped into the doors just as they swished closed. Hearing a giggle from the other side, he flashed a petulant scowl and continued in. 

Their list wasn’t too long, and certainly not complicated. Nor did there seem to be any complications; it was the middle of the morning in the middle of a work week, and as Rose had been working in a shop to support Jimmy’s ‘rock star’ life, she hadn’t had cause for several years prior to her disappearance to frequent the Tesco’s at such a time. 

In fact, the Doctor - who quite liked kissing Rose Tyler even if a snog was no more a notable experience than a chaste but prolonged kiss to the lips - was getting quite miffed that no possible opportunity had yet arisen. The aforementioned chip aisle - subconsciously labeled ‘The Promised Land’ - came and went, and after a furtive glance down the dairy section they also managed to grab the milk, the butter, the ice cream... 

...they spent a considerable amount of time in the dairy section, actually. Inordinate, almost. 

In fact, they were checking out their items, bagging them, and exiting the doors without any incident, and both of their shoulders drooped a tad bit. 

“Uneventful,” the Doctor said suddenly, almost out of the blue. “Absolutely uneventful. Not recognized once, despite your very ostentatious get-up.” He made an effort to brighten the mood. “All in all, a success. Not the usual danger we usually walk into, but-“

“Doctor, not now,” Rose interrupted, nudging him and nodding surreptitiously towards a woman walking their way who had frozen and was staring at them with slack jaw.

“Oh, is that Bev?” He asked hopefully.

“No,” she replied in a small voice, swallowing. “It’s my mum...”

~§§~

Ace McShane was having a really, _really _good day. After spending much of it looking for and acquiring posters - as well as something called an ‘iPod’ for music that she was skeptical could hold as many songs as the store owner told her it could - honestly, it was the size of a cassette tape on its own, how good could it be - with the unlimited credit card she’d been handed, she had gotten the bright idea to head down to the nearest chemist shop and stock up for supplies to make Nitro 9. 

When asked, she said it was a supply run for her grandparents - both of which were _really _getting on in years, the poor old dears - and she played it up as best a melodramatic born for the stage actress ever could. Once her purchases had been made, she paused outside a skating park to watch teens her own age twenty years in her future mill about. 

One of them offered her a spare pair of pads, a helmet, and a board, and suddenly she was incognito among the fellow kids. Getting back to the TARDIS could wait for a while, it wasn’t even past noon yet.

Right?

~§§~

Despite Jackie all but marshaling them away from the Tesco’s and ignoring Rose’s plea that they had ice cream melting they needed to put away, the Doctor couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit optimistic about the latest development of affairs. He couldn’t see the personal future - and hadn’t been able to see Rose’s for years either - but he could see the personal present, and while the timelines twisted uncomfortably to give them access into Rose’s personal past it was a flux point rather than a fixed point. Instead of a headache and nearly-debilitating sense of nausea, he was merely accosted by a light irritating tingle in the back of his head, along the base of his skull. 

As far as he could tell, this was the only opportunity Rose would get for the next foreseeable future to spend time with her mum. And if the man ever showed up, possibly her best friend as well. 

_Closure_. 

She had said she’d gotten hers when confronted with her room in that mock-up hotel with the Minotaur, but the Doctor could tell by the discomfort, awkwardness, and deep-seated fear she was projecting that that was far from the case. Gaining closure from projections was one thing, but when it was the real deal that was something else entirely. 

The walk culminated in him not really paying attention to what he was doing and walking smack into a ramrod stiff-backed Rose who had frozen in the middle of the walk and refused to take a single step further. She was staring ahead of them, oblivious to Jackie’s progressively angrier and angrier - and louder - commands to keep moving. 

Spread before them in the architectural style of the British government’s standard late 1970s to early 1980s public buildings was the Powell Estate, a council estate in Peckham, on London’s Lower East side. 

The buildings had seen better days, the pavement cracked and it seemed every available surface in the area with the storage units located along the main courtyard was covered in tags of some sort. Spray paint. Every color of the spectrum, but mostly in whites, blacks, and reds. Years of it, layered one on top of another, and beneath a lewd drawing of certain anatomy were the faded letters ‘Bad Wolf’ in large white lettering. The trees seemed tired, more than one window was broken or propped wide open to confront the unusually warm heat spike of the summer week, and in the distant set of rusting playground equipment could be seen in the nearby park. 

“Come on,” the Doctor whispered, fingers lightly curling over Rose’s shoulders as he pressed their temples together and conveyed as much encouragement and support as he could over their Intent Bond. “I know this hurts, but... do you think you could introduce me to your childhood home?”

A task. They both functioned better with a purpose, no matter how trivial. She let out a shuddering breath, leaned lightly into his chest, and then took a falsely confident step forward. Then another. Neither noticed the ashen expression on Jackie’s face when she observed them together before she turned on her heel and marched them as the lead Master of Ceremony up the stairs of Bucknall House and to Number 48. Her key scraped angrily against the lock, teeth biting into pins, and she jerked the door harshly open before stalking inside.

The cramped, run-down flat still had multiple paint swatches on the scuffed and marked hallway wall, the runner they stepped on frayed and dirty. The Doctor, ever curious, couldn’t help but peer into the rooms they passed by; a cluttered bathroom with chipped tile, a room quite obviously Jackie Tyler’s bedroom that he immediately diverted his gaze from out of propriety, and...

“Those walls are Pepto Bismol pink,” he chuckled. The same shade of pink seemed to color their bond as Rose groaned and tucked her head against her shoulder, squirming slightly. “You were a teenager. It’s not a judgement, just an amused commentary.” Something caught his eye and he stepped into the messy, cluttered bedroom, ignoring the outraged gasp from Jackie, as he plucked a tattered teddy bear that had been stitched back together so many times it looked like a test subject of some sort. Wordlessly, he handed it to Rose, who took it with shaking fingers and collapsed into a soft sob. 

“Peter,” she whimpered, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “Pete. Petey.”

“You missed him?” The Doctor asked gently. She gave a tense nod, sniffed, and made an effort to pull herself together. 

“Yea. I- I left. Pretty quickly.” 

There was a snort from the living room, which was filled with tattered but functional furniture and a mess of cables and wires for the television and dvd player. And an irate woman in her late thirties tapping her foot in a pink tracksuit. 

“Understatement of the year,” Jackie snapped. “Which is how long you’ve been gone for. Got some explainin’ to do, little madame.” There was a sharp rap on the door, knuckles to beaten wood, and she nodded in satisfaction. “That’ll be the peelers then.”

“You called the police!?” Rose exclaimed as the Doctor’s eyes blew wide. “What for!?” 

“What for!? You’ve been gone a full year, no note, nothing!” Jackie retorted. 

“Yes, well she had a very-“

“_You_. _You _can just shut your yap right now,” she snapped rounding on him. He abruptly snapped his mouth closed and sat on the edge of the sofa, swallowing. He’d been in the presence of an incensed Tyler woman enough times to know not to draw attention to himself lest he be properly on the receiving end. Rose sat beside him - properly, on the actual seat cushions, and silently fumed as her mother moved to open the door. 

The poor Detective Constable that walked in looked like he was aware he’d walked into the python lair, and despite the situation he and the Doctor shared an all-too brief look of commiseration before he sat at the extremely cluttered table and pulled open his notebook.

“Right, then. What’s going on then?” He asked, clearing his throat. 

“My daughter swans off with her boyfriend, leaving school at barely seventeen, to ‘support his music career,’” Jackie began, her sharp and angry air quotes causing the poor man to shrink further into his seat with hunched shoulders. “And then. And then she comes back here crying and complain’ that he’d done her wrong, wouldn’t tell me what even though I just wanted to make it better - possibly kill ‘im for her I will admit before the law, but only for a week she stays, and I come home one day after she’d been on death’s door with a fever, to find her gone!” Jackie threw her hands up in the air and turned an agitated circle. 

“Mrs-“

“And then she comes back after a year of my worried sick, out of the blue, and doesn’t even plan on dropping by looks like! Found her outside the nearest Tesco’s with this one here, bold as brass the pair of ‘em!” Angry bright blue eyes fixed on the Doctor and he winced as she stalked in a predatory manner toward him, jabbing a finger into his chest. “And who even are you!”

“I- I’m a Doctor,” he began, running his fingers through the hair at the back of his head in a nervous gesture and screaming **_HELP! _**across the bond in so many different ways that Rose actually coughed to hide her reaction to it. “And I travel. I took Rose on as a sort of companion, and-“

“And when you say ‘companion,’ is this a sexual relationship?” The Constable asked, looking very much like he wanted to think his head into the table. The Doctor went entire still, quit breathing entirely actually as his bypass engaged, and the only sound to escape his slightly gaped mouth was a tiny peep. Rose rolled her eyes and poked his arm, the tiny pressure the only thing necessary to send him thudding to the floor. 

“And this is my fiancé,” she sighed. “But no, not any of that going on thanks for noticing... He’s got a job with U.N.I.T. as a Scientific Advisor, and we’ve been friends for the most part. The latest romantic aspects have only developed within the last few weeks.”

Jackie let out an inhuman screech at the mention of Rose and this perfect stranger being engaged. 

“Hang on, U.N.I.T.?” The Constable asked, eyes brightening. He seemed entirely oblivious to the Doctor slowly picking himself up off the floor and slinking behind the couch. “Had a dad who worked for them back in the seventies. Is he that Doctor, then?”

“The very same,” Rose muttered, leaning over the back of the couch and raising an eyebrow at her significant other. It was a miracle he’d managed to get between it and the wall, actually. “He’s got the identification... Doctor.” An arm came over the top with his coat clutched in it and she sighed, reaching into the pockets and digging about. Her hand suddenly jerked back with a yelp, what looked to be a tiny bright blue hermit crab clinging to her fingers, and with a grimace she pried it off and stuck it on the coffee table before slamming a bowl on top of it. “Found the mysterious hatchling in your pocket by the way.”

A yo-yo, a bag of Jelly Babies that were somehow still safe to eat, his Sonic Screwdriver, a library card with the face of his first incarnation on it, and an entire tea set (with the pot still warm) deposited on the table later, and Rose finally found the ID she was looking for. She handed it to the Constable with a tired sigh, slumping back into the sofa and scraping her hand over her face as her mother sputtered while the man looked over the billfold badge.

“What, baby blue eyes over there?” She said with a dismissive flick of her hand. “Him, working a job like that back then? Can’t have been _born _much earlier before, if at all.” 

“No no, my dad, he said. He said that this Doctor chap, he was a centuries old alien from another world,” the Constable exclaimed, beaming at the (outdated but legitimate) identification. “Said he was a _face-changer_.”

“I need a cuppa, perhaps somethin’ stronger,” Jackie muttered, abruptly walking into the kitchen to mask the abrupt loss of color to her face.

“Thanks mate,” Rose muttered as she pulled out her phone and sent a frantic text to Ace - who had been given a phone directly after the Cheetaar Incident - and tacked on the address. She then grabbed the Doctor by the scruff of his jumper and pulled him, protesting, over the back of the couch. By simple providence he landed awkwardly in her lap. They stared at each other for a long moment, neither saying a word either aloud or by telepathy, before springing apart when Jackie next spoke.

“You were abducted then?” She said flatly, eyebrow raised as she stood at the entrance to a small overflowing kitchen. “By this one?”

“No, I was invited, and there was somebody else traveling about at the same time,” Rose retorted shortly. She hadn’t moved to embrace her mother once, something which had initially concerned the Doctor before he realized she was barely keeping it together, and that any sort of physical contact would make her fall to pieces. She needed a good hug, though, so - bravely defying the stare Jackie was leveling at him - he settled more comfortably on the couch and pulled Rose against his side. The soft release of breath she made in response was more akin to a moist whimper than a dry sigh, indicating clearly the barely-averted tears, and he rubbed soothing circles on her hand with his thumb as he twined their fingers together. 

“It was all very professional, just a friendly offer to see the sights with a pair of adventurers,” he explained quietly. 

“Yeah, time travel,” the Constable laughed. “Or some other such nonsense. Me dad said that he could never-“ the look he received from the three other people in the room had him clearing his throat and awkwardly going back to his notes, chastised, as he handed the ID back over. “Never mind.” 

“Tell me, Mr...”

“Lightbourne.”

“Mr. Lightbourne, your dad, was he ever written up or discharged over the divulgence of international secrecy?” The Doctor asked pointedly. DC Lightbourne winced and nodded. “Thought so...”

“Time travel eh?” Jackie murmured, eyeing her daughter thoughtfully. “Thought you looked older. What are you now, twenty-five?”

“Give or take two hundred years,” Rose murmured. “Mum. What Jimmy did to me, what I told you he did... I’m gonna live for a really, really long time, and... well... It’s been a while, for me.”

“How long, exactly?” Jackie asked, raising an eyebrow. She seemed to just manage to hide the tremulous warble of fear in her voice, but couldn’t disguise the pain. Just then, the door slammed open as Ace sauntered in.

“Muuuuuuum! Daaaaaaaaaaad! I’m baaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!”

“I need air,” Rose sighed, jumping off the sofa and bolting out the door as the Doctor lowered his head into his hands and Jackie’s mug crashed to the floor. Ace blinked. 

“What did I miss?”

“Ace, meet Jackie Tyler, Rose’s Mum,” he groaned. Ace’s mouth formed a soft ‘oh’ shape and she winced, turning to the woman sheepishly. 

“They’re not actually my parents, I Uh... they gave me a curfew so I was just being a sarcastic teenager...” 

“Jackie Tyler, meet Ace McShane,” the Doctor sighed, standing and following Rose outside. “Play nice, I think I need to talk Rose down from the edge.” 

There was a moment of silence in the apartment.

“Well, aren’t you going to go after them!?” Jackie exclaimed, turning to DC Lightbourne with crossed arms and tapping foot.

“What for?” He asked, pocketing his notebook and walking toward the door. “This seems like a family problem. I, for one, don’t want to get in the middle of it. It’s clear to me your daughter was perfectly safe, and of her own free will left for an extended period of time. Now what’s left is the domestic fallout, and I really don’t need to be here to see that.” He tipped his hat was a tight smile and exited the premises. “Good day, Mrs. Tyler.” 

“I want to hold her tight and never let go, and cry until I haven’t got any more tears to shed,” Rose murmured softly as the Doctor followed her out onto the roof. He said nothing, simply sat beside her. She sighed and leaned back on her hands, staring at the open sky above them. “I used to come up here all the time at night, trying to find the constellations through the London Light Pollution. Up here, me and what little stars I could actually spot... things were simpler then.”

“Childhood is always simpler, and it’s the simplicity adults yearn to take back, the naïveté... back when the world was limited to the confines of the back garden, and the only anger you ever received was the wrath of your parents for breaking a prized vase. When the only cruelty you ever knew was being sent to bed without dessert for arguing with your siblings or doing spectacularly poorly on an exam.” He blew out a breath and mimicked her posture, putting his weight on his hands and leaning slightly backward. 

“Jimmy will be here soon.”

“Then we run, like we always do. Hand in hand.” He made a point of placing his over hers where they sat side by side, a simple but comforting blanket pressure. “Or we stay, and we confront him, as we always do, together.”

“Never thought I’d see the day where you suggested the fight approach over the flight approach,” Rose muttered. The Doctor blew out another breath and made a point of staring at the jagged London skyline. 

“He’s haunted your steps for so long Rose,” he murmured. “I think it’s about time you take your life back. Confronting your past.” This elicited a snort of derision from her and she rolled her eyes.

“Planning on taking your own advice any time soon by, I don’t know, going back to Gallifrey or having a proper chat with the Master over what happened?” She asked pointedly.

“Timelines being what they are... I have a sickening feeling that that might just happen sooner rather than later.” At the look of surprise that statement received he shivered and shook himself. “Rose. We’re about to start a life together as one. Not just two separate entities running parallel, but a single bound, twined timeline. Inseparable. What haunts my past will haunt yours, and vice versa. I feel... I feel like it’s almost a courtesy that we tie up those bleeding loose ends before we take the final step.”

“I can get behind that,” Rose sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder. “You help me, I help you...” An eery howl echoed through the buildings and they both shivered in response. “...Liking this idea less and less by the second...” 

“Let’s just confront him and get it over with,” the Doctor muttered, standing and helping her up after him. He frowned, then smirked and nudged her shoulder playfully. “Besides, he’s not the only one with teeth and claws in this argument anymore. You’re an Alpha Luna in your own right, and you’ve come into your own. It’s time he recognized that and treated you as such.”

“Thanks,” she breathed. They took the stairs two at a time, headed back to the courtyard to wait Jimmy Stones’ arrival, and the Doctor yelped as Jackie stepped into their path. “Mum?”

“You keep on walking Rose,” Jackie retorted with her arms crossed. “It’s himself I want to have a word with.”

_If you need saving just shout, _Rose offered mentally before letting go of his hand and going on down the stairs. 

_Save me_, he whimpered in response, externally stock still staring at his future mother-in-law with very wide eyes. 

_And get on her bad side? No ta._

“Now, I don’t know what sort of shenanigans they get up to on Mars,” Jackie growled in a low voice as she pinned him with a glare, “but we humans mark an engagement with a ring.”

“...Ah, well...” he swallowed. “I offered, but Rose said she didn’t want one. Her ah, her condition being what it is, it could be quite painful if the ring weren’t purely-“

“So what _does _your alien species do to mark an engagement, if not with jewelry?” 

We- well, we’re a telepathic species. We make a bond between the minds, a joining of thoughts and emotions and-“

“You’re in her head? You’re _in my daughter’s head._”

“In- in a completely innocent and respectable fashion,” he stammered as Jackie’s eyes flared and her hand raised.


	41. Sticks and Stones II

Jackie’s fingers came up to grab at the loose collar of the Doctor’s shirt and pulled him down to her height, so that all he could see in his field of view were a pair of very angry cobalt blue eyes. Their noses bumped as she growled at him.

“Don’t try and tell me your species is innocent with it’s kinky mind- mind _liaisons_, mister-“

“Kinky- liais- do you have _any _idea how deeply you’ve just insulted me!?” The Doctor exclaimed.

“Dunno, don’t care. What I _do _care about is my Rose, and-“

“That’s why you _should _care about what you just insinuated!” He spat, roughly pulling himself backward out of her grip and shooting her a glare. “We have what is called an Intentment Bond. That is, engagement. Before that, we had what is called a Courtship Bond. Dating. The major difference is that, while we were loosely connected-“ he lightly linked his and Jackie’s pinkies together- “we weren’t really touching. Now that we’re engaged, it’s more like this.” He slid their palms together with the fingers unlinked and flat, fingertip to fingertip. 

“What are you-“

“A full Marriage Bond will be like this.” He meshed their fingers together, before moving them back to the flat palm. “But for now we’re like this. This isn’t just a touch of the mind whenever we wish it, Jackie. This is constant contact. Constant awareness of one another. It’s pain. It’s comfort. It’s warmth and completion and homecoming. And for you to insinuate that we only formed that connection to- to- to have _mind liaisons _as you call it, is the grossest simplification and insult you could throw at not only myself, but at your daughter as well. It’s also one of the most vulgar, crass things anyone has ever said to me, and I was once locked in the hold of a pirate ship for three weeks being told how they were planning to eat me.”

A slap of Jackie’s free hand arced across his cheek and left a red burning mark on the skin, but he didn’t even move. The only sign she’d caused injury was the harsh clench of his jaw and the pinched corners of his eyes as he blinked rapidly to prevent the autonomic tear production. And somehow, despite barely knowing the man, she was good enough at reading people to know he tended toward the melodramatic. Certainly, hiding behind her couch had been dramatic enough. The fact that he showed no reaction whatsoever, just continued to stare at her with hot blue eyes, spoke volumes, and Jackie cleared her throat suddenly in discomfort. 

“I _love her_, Jackie Tyler,” the Doctor continued, voice much lower in volume and tone than it had previously been. There was something ancient in him that she’d evoked that sent chills up her spine. “If she’ll have me, I want to spend the rest of my lives with her. But right now, Rose is hurting. She is in so much pain she’ll fly apart at the slightest suggestion. Did you know that in her timeline you’ve been dead for over a hundred years? Or that she left so that Jimmy couldn’t use you to get to her? She left to protect you, and Mickey. To protect herself. And all you’ve done is yell at her.”

“Doctor-“

“Jimmy Stone is on his way here,” he said in a softer tone, entire frame loosening from that taut angry tension as a sympathetic understanding crept in. “Rose is going to confront him, and I want to be there to support her. Please. Make sure you’re out of harm’s way so that you can’t be used as leverage.” 

With that, he was suddenly gone. Jackie blinked, and all that was left of his form was the edge of his coattails sweeping around the corner.

By the time the Doctor made it down to the courtyard to join Rose, he found her in the tight, almost desperate embrace of a man who appeared a year or so younger than her in age. While he could only see the back of the man’s head, the general profile and whatnot matched none other than Mickey Smith. Rose’s childhood friend a few years her senior who had stood by like a loyal but disapproving older brother during her relationship with Jimmy, and who had been heartbroken when she had run away.

There had been potential for a romantic relationship once, Rose had once admitted, when he’d been left a bit too vulnerable when divulging being left at the altar, so to speak. Circumstances being what they were, it was for the best it hadn’t been allowed to progress; it would have been a relationship of complacency and convenience. One of security rather than love. It would have been expected on the estate, as they had grown up together. 

Despite that little wrinkle in any potential Mickey might have seen in progressing their relationship further, the Doctor wasn’t threatened in the least. Rather, he sighed softly in thanks toward the young man for providing some clearly-needed comfort toward his Intended and let it rest at that. Rose was about to meet the man who had inadvertently set her on a path of immense pain and loneliness which had only been soften by recent years of relative companionship and healing, and she needed all the strength she could muster. 

“How far out do you think he is?” The Doctor asked, walking up to them. Mickey quickly swung around, shoving Rose behind him, and he narrowed his eyes at the action. “For the record, Rose can look after herself. Secondly, the last person wanting to hurt her is me. You must be Mickey Smith.”

“Yeah? Who’re you then?” Mickey asked warily, tensing as Rose slipped from behind him to walk over and nuzzle her forehead against the Doctor’s shoulder. 

“I’m the Doctor,” he said simply, not bothering to start the motions of a handshake. He’d been around humans enough to know when someone was either too skittish or hostile to accept. “Her fiancé.”

“Wait, wha-“

“Just... ask Jackie,” he sighed, jerking a thumb toward said woman’s position. “There’s a good chap.” Mickey glared at him but stalked off.

“Wondered if you were gonna hiss at ‘im or somethin’ for getting too handsy,” Rose joked weakly. The Doctor snorted at that and slung an arm over her shoulders. 

“Nah. You and me? Inseparable.” Another howl echoed through Peckham and he growled in response. 

“‘Inseparable,’ huh?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. He winced.

“Autonomic response to a credible challenger... and of course, he _was _someone who deeply hurt you on a prior occasion.” There was a small shake in his shoulders. “So. Inseparable but with a heavy dose of precautionary protectiveness.”

“Daft Time Lord. Love you too.” She inhaled deeply and snuggled further into his side, tiredly. The day had taken a lot out of her... despite it being barely 1:00 in the afternoon. “God... I just want to sleep for a week and get it all over with already.”

“You can sleep afterward, but I don’t think you’ll get your chance for a little while,” he murmured with a frown as a young man came walking into the courtyard on the other end. By Rose’s in-drawn breath, there was no one else it could be.

Jimmy Stone.

He was tall and lanky, but in a skinny sort of starving musician in a grunge band way rather than a jogger way. Long, dirty black hair dyed peroxide blond and desperately needing a touch-up at the roots swept in front of dark green eyes, and heavily-freckled pasty skin held a light coating of soot on it. Ripped jeans, spiked dog collar around the neck, a tank top with the band name ‘Howling Stones’ printed on it. He smelled like a walking bar where it was legal to smoke cannabis and the perfectly-straight pearly white smile he flashed, the only part of him clean and impeccable, was extremely out of place and unnerving when he spotted them. 

Jimmy crossed the courtyard in a lazy loping manner, hands shoved into his pockets and hips jutted forward in his amble, and when he came to a stop in front of them his entire body language was fully predator as he grinned ferally at Rose and licked his lips.

“‘Ello lovey,” he chuckled. The accent was bad Cockney, a mocking attempt that did little to mask the broad and educated New Zealand lilt of the tongue underneath it, and the Doctor pulled back his lips to hiss at him, baring his canines. Jimmy’s smile faded as he showed his own - and significantly sharper - canines and growled low. Both sounds were territorial and to be taken seriously. “Awww, should have known the little lap dog would find a new master to grovel to.” His nose wrinkled. “You reek of him, Tyler.”

“Mutual scent marking there James,” the Doctor pointed out, well aware from the first Wolf encounter he’d had in Scotland that that was some sort of pack claim among their people. Living in such close proximity to one another for several years made it an automatic scent dousing, floating through the air to land on their skin and clothes. “She doesn’t belong to you.”

“Oh, course she does mate. Haven’t you ever heard of the term ‘self-made mate?’ I turned her, therefore she’s mine.”

“I’m an Alpha Luna, and I’m old enough to know how to use that to my full advantage,” Rose snarled angrily, voice tight and vibrating with fragmenting self-control as she slipped out from under the Doctor’s arm and paced around to Jimmy’s other side. He was forced to match the movement in a circular motion to keep her in view. “Not the scared kid that ran away anymore.” 

“Baby got bite, huh?” He laughed. “Nice. Like my women with a bit of spunk in ‘em. You were so _boring _when we used to-“

“I’m getting married, and it’s not to you,” she interrupted hurriedly, shame pounding along the bond and meeting only concerned understanding at its end point. “It will _never _be to you. Make someone else incubate your devil spawn.” 

“Or maybe I’ll just tear your mum’s entrails out of her belly and strew them across the pavement,” Jimmy snapped. Rose’s lips peeled back in a snarl as a growl emanated from deep in her chest, her eyes flashing golden and Jimmy’s matching hers by flashing entirely black. The color change had her pausing for a moment in confusion, and it was all that he needed to spring at her. 

He had her pinned to the ground beneath him, a hand at her chest to press down and prevent movement and another peeling back the collar of her jacket to reveal the join of right shoulder to neck, his fangs bared and dripping ever so slightly in anticipation with drool. 

Without warning, he was suddenly gone. Rose sat up abruptly with a gasp and saw him writhing on the concrete with the Doctor’s fingers pressed harshly into his temples, their eyes locked in furious concentration. 

The Doctor had explained once, what a Mind Grapple was. It was, for lack of a better term, a boxing match to the death in their mind’s, a telepathic spat. Normally it was done only between Time Lords, but Jimmy had laid a hand on Rose and there was no way he could take the Wolf on physically. Despite not being a Time Lord, Jimmy was strong telepathically as all Wolves were, and the Doctor soon realized that as with Stubbe he’d made a mistake. 

~§§~

_The mental mindscape was less a defined plane of existence and more a hazy reality boxing them in, and out of this immense shadow realm stalked a pure black Wolf far bigger than even Stubbe had been. His coal coat seemed to drip with tar, his eyes a bloody red and that same scarlet coating yellowed fangs. Unsheathed claws were large and wicked as talons, the fur of his pelt course and prickly. Wherever he stalked, the darkness seemed to cling to him. _

_The Doctor cleared his throat and backed away as far as he could, unease permeating his person like a haze. _

_“Fenric, I presume?” He stammered. The Wolf snickered. _

_“Merely a servant thereof,” Jimmy laughed. “Born a Letoan, inducted a Fenrin.”_

_“I suppose you’d say that was an improvement.” _

_“I do.” _

_“How is... how is that possible? To change species?” Jimmy laughed in response and the Doctor shivered at the unpleasant sound._

_“We’re far more alike than you think.” He drew closer in a stalk. “I think it’s time you learned that my bite is far more lethal than my bark.”_

_Jimmy lunged forward and the Doctor yelped as he darted out of the way, falling backward and scrambling to avoid the slash of claws. One of the talons caught his leg and he hissed in pain, the hiss turning to a growl of anger as pain brought clarity and adrenaline surged through his body. Fingers gripped the fur, matting in the tar-like substance, and with a hefty pull they both went down. _

_Rolling, Jimmy threw the Doctor from his back and lunged again, this time pinning his adversary under him. Fangs dripped with saliva as he bent down toward his opponent’s face..._

_The weight, and the pain of the claws, was suddenly gone. Gasping in clean air, the Doctor groaned in pain as he attempted to pull himself into at least a crouch. A pair of hands pressed into his back and he froze, turning to see the grim expression of his second incarnation staring back at him. _

_“Stay down,” he whispered. “Let the others get a whack in.”_

_“...What?” The Doctor whispered. _

_“It’s a Mind Grapple, Doctor,” Two reminded him with an impatient huff. “And well, we never really left, did we?” _

_“We- well, yes, but-“ they both blinked as their Third incarnation stepped forward and tackled Jimmy, the pair of them rolling across the floor construct. “Why are you here? You know how it works, it goes ‘me, then when I’m bested, the next-eldest incarnation, all the way back to the beginning.’ Not all of us at once!”_

_“I think you’ll find that the rules go out the window when someone is threatening our Bondmate,” their fourth incarnation suggested pointedly, taking off his scarf and aiming before using it like a lasso and catching Jimmy around the head. Three let out a shout of triumph as he pulled on the yarn, tightening it around Jimmy’s snapping jaws and effectively creating a muzzle._

_“_If _you could all stop gawking, I need some help over here!” He snapped._

_“Don’t take that tone with me!” Two growled in retort, stalking over to help pin Jimmy as their third self continued to wrestle with him. _

_“Still at it then, eh?” Their first incarnation sighed. “It’s to be expected, I suppose.” He flashed a wry smile at the Doctor and extended a hand which was gladly taken as he pulled himself into a stand. Inquisitive eyes focused in on Four. “Don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”_

_“No, he _was _quite absent from that nonsense in the Death Zone,” the Doctor mused, pacing forward to join Two and Three. He’d gotten his metaphorical breath back and was ready for another round, making a point of kneeling onto his heels and glaring right back at the death stare he was receiving. “Hello, James. Enjoying the brawl, are we?”_

_“You’re impossible.” Jimmy’s voice echoed around their mind space and the Doctor let out a dark chuckle._

_“Oh, no. Not me. Just a Time Lord. And we encompass multitudes compared to the shallow likes of you.” _

_“Doctor,” Three greeted with a grunt of exertion as he wrapped his legs over Jimmy’s back and straddled him like one would sit on the back of a horse, trying and failing to hold him in place. “Help. Please.” _

_“Bite his ear, I’ve heard that works to establish dominance,” the Doctor muttered dismissively, ignoring both the snort of laughter from Two at the comment and the irritated grimace from Three._

_They all paused as Jimmy growled, the rumble seeming to shake the mental construct world around them, and without any warning whatsoever they were all flung out of the space and back into the real world. _

~§§~

Blurry eyes and five separate, confused personas watched as Rose - in full Wolf form - rolled across the courtyard in a violent display of teeth and claws with an equally-Wolfish Jimmy, blood spraying everywhere in a fine mist over the cracked pavement.

Rose was... absolutely terrifying. 

Not for the reason that was most obvious (being the fact that she was literally _shredding someone _and the asphalt was cracking with each impact of her paws beneath her due to the sheer force of the blows she was making, or the fact that her claws were gouging deep furrows in the solid industrial stonework). No, it was because she had never been that way before - not even when fighting for her very life against Stubbe.

She was terrifying because this vicious, desperate attack of hers came from the depth of love she held for him. So, the fighting itself wasn’t what terrified him so much as the reason for it.

_Were we so different, instigating a Mind Grapple without the proper equipment and not knowing the strength of our opponent? _One mused inside his head.

The Doctor shivered as his past selves swirled and coalesced in his mind, struggling to keep anything coherent. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They were supposed to be in the back of his subconscious, present but eternally asleep. Being torn from the Mind Grapple in the way they had been was throwing the delicate but complex balance of his sensibilities into entire disarray. He groaned, pressing his hand to his temple and letting out a soft hiss as a white flash of pain exploded behind his eyes at the pressure. 

Hot blood saturated Rose’s mouth as she buried her teeth into Jimmy’s shoulder. He howled with pain, blowing out a couple of nearby windows with the sound, and turned to swipe her leg with the talons on one of his paws. Leg buckling, Rose went down, and immediately Jimmy was on top of her raking his claws across her soft underbelly. Dizzy from blood loss, Rose arched her head upward in an uncoordinated lunge and caught his throat in her fangs. 

Biting down hard, Rose held tight as blood cascaded down her face and blinded her, as Jimmy’s body spasmed in response to his nervous system and major artery rupturing, as the spasms grew weaker as his life force drained onto the pavement. When he slumped heavily downward, Rose let go and heaved herself to a stand. Legs spread wide to keep her in that position, she threw back her head toward the dusky sky and let loose a howl that reverberated throughout the entirety of London. 

It was a dominant howl, one that said she’d won the fight and proven she was the superior Alpha, and when that was done she staggered several paces away from Jimmy’s writhing body and collapsed. 

Seconds later, she felt her head being lifted from the ground to rest on the folded legs of her Intended mate and his fingers running through the silky blood-drenched fur around her ears. Her own wounds were already healing, and they both glanced up to watch Jimmy crawl off on his belly to lick his wounds. The Powell Estate was Rose’s territory; he’d never return. 

_I want to go home, Doctor_, she sighed mentally, abject exhaustion and pain leaking through the bond. 

Without a word - though there was a grunt of exertion - he hefted her into his arms and carried her back toward the TARDIS. 

After returning home, the Doctor had piloted the TARDIS to the living room of Jackie’s flat and had then disappeared to the Zero Room for a good hour or so to get his head sorted back the way it was supposed to be. It was there that Rose found him, seated in the far corner with his knees pinned to his chest and his head resting on them. 

“Place smells like roses,” she pointed out softly. A soft, rueful chuckle responded to that and when he lifted his head to rest his chin on his crossed arms where they rested on his kneecaps he wore an ironic grin.

“Always has,” he said, motioning with a slight nod to the room in general. Its walls were pinkish grey, the ceiling a soft hazy golden white, the floor solid off-white. “Never could quite figure out why, but now... I think the TARDIS was trying to give me a not-so-subtle hint all along.”

“Thought you accidentally burnt it up trying to escape the Big Bang.”

“I did. Eventually I had to ask the TARDIS to create a new one. After what happened with Stubbe, I didn’t want to take chances in case it was needed. Which, as of today, it was.” Rose grinned and scooted closer to where he was sitting, and his brow furrowed slightly as his mind went over the events of the late afternoon. “Rose.”

“Yes Doctor?”

“What was Jimmy trying to do, when he went to bite your neck?”

“He... was trying to claim me,” Rose admitted, mocking his posture as she tucked her legs against her chest, draped her arms over the top, and then plopped her chin down. “If he’d have bitten me... it would’ve meant that I was his.”

“Property, you mean,” the Doctor muttered flatly. She winced. 

“For him? Yeah. But it’s not supposed to be. It’s supposed to be a sign that I’m mated and that I should be left alone. There are times... there are times when we’re walking through a market or someplace, and you get some appreciative looks... makes me want to mark ya, to tell people ‘paws off, this one’s spoken for.’” She squirmed slightly. “Might be necessary when we marry, actually. As much as you physically need to permanently bind our minds together and stake your claim with your telepathic imprint, I might physically need to stake a claim as well.” 

“That... sounds like it’d hurt,” he murmured diplomatically. 

“...Yeah.” She shook herself slightly and made an obvious effort to change the subject. “So. How’s it going upstairs?” 

“Things have finally settled,” he said with a slightly shrug. “When I was torn out of the Mind Grapple it sort of... mixed up my own persona with that of my prior selves. Imagine, five different psyches all crammed into one head.”

“Sounds uncomfortable.”

“It was. Painful, even. But after spending some extended time in the Zero Room, I’ve got my mental faculties back in order.”

“Can I...?” Rose trailed off and bit her lip, which resulted in the Doctor glancing toward her with a raised eyebrow. 

“Can you...?”

“I... It’s just. I’ve never met them, and I’ve always wondered... I. I didn’t realize that they were still there- I mean, obviously they’re a part of you, they’re your past and the memories that come from that and-“ she cut herself off and started over with a sharp controlled breath. “What I mean is... could I... would it be possible for me, to, y’know... meet them?” Her fingers came up to hover near his temple. “In there?” 

“...Do you know, despite the fact that I shouldn’t be surprised, it truly never occurred to me that you might want to get to know my past incarnations?” The Doctor murmured after an uncomfortable minute of him simply staring at her with wide eyes and a slightly unhinged jaw. 

“Wha- seriously? It threw you for that bad of a loop!?” Rose exclaimed. He shrugged, then grimaced. 

“Well, yes. You have to remember that I have a tendency toward masochism without you around, and until we make a marriage bond it’s one of the few places you can’t follow me. The idea of you wanting to have anything to do with my past selves should be laughable under those conditions.” 

“Idiot,” Rose sighed, fond exasperation completely ruining the insult. The Doctor smirked.

“Well, that’s a given. By I’m _your _idiot, remember.” 

“Mm.” There was an easy lapse of silence before she brought them back to her request. “So, is it possible?”

“Ah... well, no. Sorry. It would have been possible when I was out of sorts, but it wouldn’t have been healthy for me. Even _I _can’t interact with my old personalities on a good day, you see. It would open the floodgates for temptation toward mental instability otherwise. Imagine, thirteen personas crammed into one mind. Utter chaos.”

“Self-defense mechanism,” she summarized with a nod. “Good to know. So, why did that mechanism fail in the first place?”

“Participating in an unmonitored Mind Grapple is very dangerous business,” the Doctor admitted. “But I didn’t care, because I was trying to protect you.” A slightly hurt expression flit across his face and he sighed. “Rose, why didn’t you trust me to win for you? I almost had him before you threw me off.”

“Because you were screaming and blood was pouring out your nose,” she answered dryly. He blinked. 

“I thought that was a result of cracking my head on the cement in the courtyard.”

“Nope.” She tapped his nose and rolled her eyes. “Might have something to do with that ‘unsupervised Mind Grapple being a dangerous business’ thing, huh?” She grinned. “And I was completely aware you almost got him, by the way. Would’ve had a much harder time finishing him off if you hadn’t severely weakened him first.” She laced their fingers together and smiled. “We make a pretty good team, I think.” He matched the smile at that and nodded. 

“Mm. That we do.” The Doctor stood, shaking himself slightly after a long period of inactivity in such a cramped position, and offered a hand to help her up which she accepted. “Well, come on then. I have a feeling your mother and best friend are wondering why there’s a police box in the living room, and the sooner we get our meltables out of her fridge and into ours the better.”

“Yeah, yeah, you and your ice cream,” Rose laughed. They both exited the Zero Room and walked back toward the Console Room, swinging their linked hands between them as they went. “So... what exactly did you and mum talk about?” 

“Ah. Ehm...”

“She threaten to kill you and bury the body?”

“Not as such, no. She did slap me-“

“She _what!?_”

“I compared her to pirates threatening to eat me. Totally deserved, no matter.” He waved his free hand dismissively and walked over to the door switch, tugging her along. “She insulted our bond, didn’t understand what it was. Mutual insulting going about. We reached an understanding, which is that we were both worried about you, and she let me off to go and stand in the courtyard before Jimmy showed up.” 

“Look at you, making nice with the in-laws!” Rose laughed, placing both of her hands on his chest and standing on tiptoe as the doors slowly slid open. The Doctor smiled, readily accepting the offer for a kiss and not complaining when she moved to deepen it. 

It wasn’t the first snog they’d shared, but it was the first one since they’d established their Intention Bond - and also the first one since all of his instincts had gotten reset from Time Lord to Gallifreyan standard. His stance on the subject was that it was nice, but- Oh. _Oh. _Oooookayyyyy... very nice...

...There might be something to these so-called ‘more primitive’ instincts he now had... 

...Very nice indeed...

Rose, who was accustomed to getting amiable response but nothing more from such an endeavor - it was mutually understood that it was more for her benefit than for him - was taken entirely by surprise when, when it was the habitual time for them to break the kiss, his arms tightened around her waist in an almost desperate movement and he further deepened the snog. 

Not that she was complaining, oh no. This was a more than pleasant if unexpected new development, and when she whimpered with happiness he matched it. Her fingers tightened in the fabric of his jumper as he leaned them back against the console, and-

“Oi!”

_Your mother has the worst timing,_ the Doctor growled into her mind. Rose snorted in response to that, reluctantly breaking the kiss and pulling away to spot her mum standing in the doorway of the TARDIS with a tapping foot and hands on her hips. Mickey stood a little ways behind her, jaw on the floor, and Ace was making a retching motion in the background of the flat. 

While the both of them were flushed, neither were out of breath; Rose had discovered she didn’t need oxygen at all during the Androzani escapade, and the Doctor had his bypass. They _were, _however, looking as if they’d been mutually snogged within an inch of theirs lives what with their mussed hair and rumpled clothing.

“Hey mum,” Rose said a tad sheepishly, waving and clearing her throat as the Doctor took a deep breath and blinked hard several times, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Yeah, and this isn’t a Snog Box,” Jackie snapped, giving the Doctor a glare. 

“Nah Nan, first time it’s ever been remotely steamy,” Ace said easily, walking past the pair of them and stepping into the TARDIS. “Anybody need me, I’ll be in my room. If you don’t need me, don’t.” 

“I’m not old enough to be somebody’s _Nan!_” Jackie exclaimed. 

“Actually...” Mickey began, shrinking when she glared at him. “...Never mind.” 

“Ace likes to give people nicknames,” the Doctor sighed. “Poor Turlough, she kept calling him Coppertop...” 

“Who’s this Furlough bloke anyhow?” Jackie huffed. The Doctor and Rose exchanged a single glance and burst out laughing, Rose pulling out her phone and typing a quick text to the person in question likely to tell him what his new nickname was. Peri and Malkon would never let him live it down.

“Turlough,” the Doctor corrected, chuckling. “He-“

“Nah mate, hold on a second and go back to the part where the inside of the Snog Box is bigger than the outside,” Mickey interrupted.

“It says ‘Police’ on it, Micks,” Rose corrected with a smirk. “I don’t think it could be any clearer that it was a _Police _Box.”

“Says the girl getting snogged in it.”

“_Giving _snogs. _And _getting, of course,” she added, nudging the Doctor lightly in the ribs. She was surprised when his eyes darkened ever so slightly, like tiny storm clouds gathering on the horizon, rather than him showing embarrassment at the PDA and she blushed. 

_Liked that, then?_ She asked, taking his hand to chat mentally.

_...Let’s just say that I think these new instincts are definitely for keeps_, he murmured back, a playful but happy tone thrumming through the words. Her expression softened as she stroked her thumb over the back of his hand.

_If you’re happy with that, then I am too._

_And I am very happy. _He inhaled slightly, brow pinching as he gave her hand a squeeze. _But I think you and your family need some time alone right now. _He eased out of the lean he’d been in against the console and gave her fingers a squeeze. _I think, maybe the library would be a good place to start._

_You’re family too, _Rose protested, grip tightening around his hand. There was something desperate in the clutch she had and he sighed softly, taking the time to unwind each finger one by one.

_We’re a team Rose, _the Doctor said gently. _But right now, you need to stand on your own two feet. I can’t be here for this, but I can be here for you, by waiting to catch you when you fall on the other side._

_Why?_

_Honestly? Because anything I say your mother will dislike. _His eyes sparkled slightly and she had to huff at him despite the situation. _Pretty sure she wants to murder me. About ninety-seven percent. _

_And the other three?_

_That she wants to mother me, which is an even more dire and disturbing concept. _He leaned forward and kissed her gently on the temple before letting go of her hand and walking out of the TARDIS to retrieve the groceries they’d stashed in Jackie’s kitchen. 

“And you live here with himself,” Jackie commented quietly, finally taking the time to observe her surroundings properly.

“‘S a big ship, Mum. And we travel with Ace.” Rose bit the side of her thumb and sighed. “The three of us need to talk, and I think the library would be a good place to do that.”

“You have a library?” Mickey asked, blinking. He and Jackie exchanged a glance before following her deeper into the TARDIS, passing several rooms along the way as they went, before arriving in the library. “Rose, this place is-“

“Fancy,” Jackie snorted. “Bit of posh, right here. No wonder you sound like you’ve gotten airs and graces.” 

“Considering I lived alone in a _desert _for twenty years without even a tent, I think I’ve earned the right to some material comforts,” Rose retorted dryly, arms crossing over her chest. “And before that I was backpacking across the world living on my wits and skill to even just get by, sleeping in trees and other people’s sheds if they were kind enough to let me stay at all.” She took in the library and smiled. It was definitely massive, ornate wooden shelves and marble columns reaching from the floor to the five-story ceiling with four balconies flanking the perimeter of the room; the main sitting area happened to be at the front when you walked in through carved mahogany double doors, throw pillows, blankets, plush armchairs and sofas all ringing a gigantic sculpted fireplace that always seemed to be lit. Rose sank into one of the aforementioned spots with a tired sigh, her mum and Mickey hesitantly sitting stiffly near her on the couch. 

“But... yeah, the TARDIS likes to show off a bit with this room. She’s very proud of what she made.”

“Who?” Jackie asked.

“The TARDIS, our ship. It stands for ‘Time And Relative Dimensions In Space.’ She’s a time traveling space ship.”

“You speak of her as if she were alive.”

“Well, she is. She’s an eleven-dimensional being, but there’s a mutual love and respect between inhabitants and vessel, trust me.” The TARDIS responded to that with a soft hum and a happy flickering of her lights and both of her guests flinched. “‘S okay, she’s just saying hello.”

“Lemme get this straight,” Mickey said, leaning forward for, his slouch. “You basically live in a living castle and the owner is a mysterious being, and you’ve fallen for ‘im.” He whistled. “Sounds a bit _Beauty and the Beast_.”

“Yeah, but that depends on who you think is the Beast,” Rose whispered, seeing an opening as good as she’d ever get one and taking it with trepidation. “Mum, Mickey... remember how I said that Jimmy hurt me, that he... changed me?”

“You were nearly dead from fever after he did whatever it was he did,” Jackie snorted. “So what was it then, some sort of alien STD?”

“Ewww, no, Mum,” Rose groaned, dropping her face into her hands and scrubbing before making a visible effort toward regaining her composure. “Jimmy’s species- _our_\- species... well, it has the ability to change other people into one of us... he Bit me.”

“Like a Vampire?” Mickey asked flatly. 

“More like... an outer space Werewolf.” He snorted with laughter.

“Yeah, right.” At the hurt and vulnerable expression on her face he swallowed. “Oh. You’re not- you’re not actually joking.” 

“Of course she is, Mickey!” Jackie hissed. Her expression was angry, her voice full of denial, and her eyes were filled with fear. “There’s no such thing!”

“Just _look at her, _Jacks!” Mickey exclaimed. “What part of her sitting there looking like we’re going to grab a gun with silver bullets doesn’t register with you?”

“But you’re not,” Jackie whimpered, finally turning to Rose. Her voice broke, her eyes swimming with tears, as she looked at her miserable daughter. “You’re not. Rose, tell him you’re not...”

“I am,” Rose said softly, a crack ringing through her broken words. Jackie’s lip trembled and she licked them before regrouping.

“Prove it.”

Rose nodded, sniffing, as she stood and walked into the middle of the sitting area. Her entire body was shaking with trepidation at whatever reactions they might have, but she took a deep breath and began to shift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next two parts of this story are a drastic shift in location and plot, but very much the same in tone and theme. 
> 
> Housekeeping notes. I usually use “Doctor” for the main incarnation and the number for the non-main incarnations to promote clarity of comprehension.
> 
> And yes, the “bite his ear” line does come from the movie Snow Dogs.
> 
> The conversation about the Zero Room smelling of roses is taken straight from the Classic Who Fifth Doctor post-regeneration episode ‘Castrovalva.’


	42. Sticks and Stones III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is recommended that you listen to the third series of Big Finish Audios “Gallifrey” episodes one and two, “Fractures” and “Warfare,” to enjoy the full experience, however this is not necessary to comprehend what is happening and without first listening to series 1 and 2 beforehand you would be lost. There will be an in-story explanation for the three main characters as the Doctor’s missed a lot since he was last on Gallifrey and Rose and Ace have never been. As the reader, rest assured that you’ll learn what’s going on with them. The advantage to having listened is merely some foreknowledge of the main big picture going on. 
> 
> NOTE UPDATED MINUTES PRIOR TO POSTING: THAT’S IT! I GIVE UP! I JUST CAN’T GET THIS CHAPTER TO WORK AND IT’S BEEN ALMOST A MONTH. Well, screw that. I’m posting what I’ve got, the ending is perfect for suspense, and then I can start the next chapter with a convenient time skip. Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesh.

“I take it by the fact that you’re curled up _under_ your bed, clutching your newly-recovered teddy bear, that things didn’t go so well,” the Doctor said softly from the doorway. Rose whined, pulling her tail completely under the bed so that it no longer poked out from under the translucent shimmering gold bedskirt. He sighed and walked over, dropping to the floor to army crawl in after her. He winced as his shoulders scraped the bottom of the spring box but continued forward until he was next to her. She had the teddy between her paws, her snout resting on the stuffed animal, staring at the opposite wall. 

“Come on then,” he sighed, squirming closer in the low space until he could run his fingers through the silky ear fur. “Tell me the bad news. At the very least I can be upset on your behalf and maybe drown my sorrows with a good red. Let you live vicariously or some other such nonsense.” This elicited a huff of exasperation and there was a tiny glimmer of amusement along the bond. “As a small victory I got you to laugh.”

_Mickey fainted, Mum screamed and started crying, I couldn’t take it and ran. Ended up here, didn’t bother to close the door, _Rose replied sullenly. _Good at running from the important things, me._

“Well, that makes two of us,” the Doctor mused. “Took you pushing me to even consider seeing Ian and Barbara again, much less doing something about it.” There was a meaningful pause. “Took me pushing you to talk with your family. We’re good for each other that way, darling. Just the right kind of pressure that doesn’t allow us to come apart at the seams.”

_You’re saying I should go in there and finish what I started? _

“I’m saying we should go together.” He exhaled hard through his nose. “Your Mum wasn’t willing to listen to anything I might have said earlier, but I think she might now. We just have to-” he broke off abruptly, a sharp cry of pain as he clutched at his head and curled into a ball as much as was physically possible with the low space under the bed. Rose _boofed _in concerned question, grabbing the back of his jumper in her mouth and pulling them out into the open space of her room before shifting into human form and placing her fingers against his temples.

At once she was awash with undiluted pain, feeling as if she’d been severed from something and noting with abject concern that it was all eerily silent.

“T-they cut me off from the Matrix on Gallifrey,” he managed to spit out through clenched teeth. 

“Or something happened and the Matrix was damaged,” Rose offered, taking the optimistic approach in the conversation. He shook his head.

“No, no, the Matrix, it’s been active on Gallifrey since long before Rassilon died,” he murmured. The shock was slowly dissipating, his mind shifting to accommodate the yawning emptiness by replacing it with a throbbing headache that made _any _kind of telepathic contact save for the bond unbearable. “Ooh, Ooh that hurt...”

“Only one way to find out, no matter how you go about it,” she said with a shrug. “Once we wrap things up here... we go to Gallifrey.”

“Rose, I don’t-”

“You’re miserable, Doctor. You can’t function like this, not well or properly. Again, after I finish my talk with my mum and she and Mickey leave, we’re going to Gallifrey. But uh, I think some tea’s in order, to deal with that neural implosion. Yeah?”

“Marry me,” he whimpered pitifully as she helped him to a stand and slung his arm over her shoulders to half guide, half drag him down the corridors toward the galley.

“Thought that was already the plan,” Rose retorted with a sort of smug sarcasm in response. 

When they got to the galley Mickey and Jackie were already seated at the table talking with Ace, and from across the room they could both smell that a fresh pot of tea had been brewed. The Doctor sank gratefully into a chair and automatically accepted the cuppa Rose prepared for him, chugging half of it before slowing to savor and sighing in relief as the headache eased. A few moments later arose reappeared beside him with a second mug of tea for him and one of her own. The other three people in the room had ceased their conversation when they’d entered and had watched the proceedings with great if wary interest. 

“So what’s all this about then?” Jackie asked curiously.

“The Doctor had a migraine, just some unpleasant telepathic feedback,” Rose said smoothly, downplaying how serious it really was. “Think we need to take a trip to his home planet of Gallifrey so he can see a specialist.” Ace’s eyes blew wide with understanding at that and she swallowed, gaze flickering from mother to daughter and back and forth as they conversed. 

“You’re not staying then,” Jackie sighed. Rose bit her lip.

“This is my home now,” she explained quietly. “And it’s been my home for a while now.”

“We’re not in it.”

“Yeah, and you’d really want to deal with all the shedding?” Rose retorted dryly. “I shed, Mum. Every other decade I blow my coat.”

“Don’t remind me,” the Doctor muttered, well aware they were about due for such a horrible thing in a year or so. He took a long pull of his tea and shuddered. “It was like it had rained honey golden hair everywhere. Had to buy and upgrade an entire army of Roombas to deal with the fallout.”

“It’s like having automated cats prowling about the place,” Ace snickered. “Always underfoot, and they’re more of an inconvenience than any sort of help.” She leveled an amused glare at the Doctor. “He upgraded them with an auto-incineration feature, you know. Blast the items they collect to pure energy, then absorb the energy. They literally eat stuff. Like socks. And underthings. And blankets. Never to return again.” 

“And now the TARDIS loves them so we can’t get rid of them,” Rose sighed, ruffling the Doctor’s hair as he grumbled unhappily in Gallifreyan and rubbed at his temples. “All right, love. We’ll get going. Get some help.” 

“Are we gonna see you again, or...?” Mickey trailed off and swallowed at the look on Rose’s face. 

“Micks, this is my personal past,” she said gently. “Now, the Doctor’s gonna gag when I use this example, but... remember what happened when Marty messed about in the _Back to the Future _trilogy?” Both Jackie and Mickey’s eyes widened in sudden understanding at that. 

“Don’t want something like that to happen here, do we?”

“I like those movies,” the Doctor protested. “Don’t know why you’d think I wouldn’t.” Rose raised an eyebrow at him. 

“...Yeah, you would, wouldn’t you?” She muttered before refocusing her attention. “Mum...”

“I can’t even call you, can I?” She whispered. “There’s so much of your life I’ve missed, and I won’t be able to be a part of anything that comes after, either.” 

“Not at present,” the Doctor said gently. “My species can see individual timelines, but our own and those that belong to people near to us are shrouded. Yours, however...” His eyes narrowed as he studied Jackie and Mickey’s timelines. Both of them shimmered with potential, held many wonderful opportunities in the future, and the best part... “Well. There appear to be instances where we can meet again for you. This won’t be our last meeting, but how many and when...”

“I’ll take that over nothing,” Jackie sighed. Her brow quirked slightly. “You’re not exactly what I expected in a potential son-in-law, but you’re not half bad.”

“Did it physically pain you to admit that?” The Doctor retorted dryly. 

“You’re a right sight better than Jimmy Stone.”

“Well, that goes without saying I think we can all agree. A _gigolo_ would be better marriage material than him.” 

“Mum... I wanna give you something,” Rose said softly, placing her phone on the table. “Over the years, I left- I left you messages. Things I saw, did. I didn’t think you’d ever get to hear them, but I recorded them anyway. If- If you wanna know my past...” 

“I’ll listen to all of ‘em,” Jackie promised, taking the phone and holding it reverently in her hands. She looked back up at the trio. “Do you really have to go?” 

“We really need to get his head examined- you quit your laughing Ace McShane- and we need to do it sooner rather than later.” 

“Well.” Jackie stood, which prompted Mickey to stand as well, and nodded. “We’ll be going, then.” She swallowed, reaching an arm toward her daughter as if on reflex before quickly withdrawing it. “Come on, Micks.” The Doctor frowned slightly at the gesture but tabled his questions until after the farewells, letting out a soft gasp of pain as he rubbed once more at his temples and led the way back to the console room. Neither houseguest outstayed the farewells, and soon it was just the three of them once again in the TARDIS. 

“Why didn’t your mother touch you?” The Doctor asked as he set the controls. Rose absently flicked her assigned levers and buttons and shrugged. 

“‘S funny, the things you realize in hindsight,” she began as segue. “But once I became a blanket empath I realized I’d already been one all along, just... as a Touch empath. If I made skin to skin contact with someone, I could read their feelings. And sometimes, if I really really tried, I could give people some ‘comforting vibes’ as a called it. My dad was like that, too. That’s where I got it from. The reason mum didn’t touch me just now is because we’re both hurting, but she knows that if we touch... it’ll just make it five times worse for me.” She huffed, blowing a piece of her bangs out of her eyes. “Of course, I’m now a _blanket _telepath and it doesn’t matter we touch or not, I still _feel _her pain...” 

“Empathic or telepathic abilities among humans is rare but more than plausible,” he mused, head tilting slightly as the TARDIS began traveling through the Vortex. “It makes sense that Jimmy would be attracted to a mind that felt similar to his in some way.”

“Gee, thanks for that,” Rose retorted, nose wrinkling. 

“What’s Gallifrey like?” Ace asked, leaning on the edge of the console but taking care not to touch anything. The Doctor blinked and shook his head slightly. 

“Well, for starters... extremely xenophobic, so make sure we don’t get separated or they might erase your memories of any time spent on the TARDIS and plop you back on Earth- supposedly ‘where you belong.’” Ace snorted at his use of air quotes but didn’t interrupt. “Ehm... ah. I’d go and lather some strong sunscreen on as well, and keep it on you. The planet has two suns. Speaking of which, dress for Syrian summer during the day and Syrian winter at night.”

“Meaning...”

“Spaghetti strap tank top and short shorts, or a bikini, or just plain nude,” Rose suggested. The Doctor choked, an absolutely scandalized expression of outrage crossing over his features, and Rose waggled her eyebrows at him before explaining the joke to Ace. “Planet of the Prudes, Ace. Don’t worry. I’ll help you find climate-adjusting full-body underwear.”

“Thanks, Rose.” 

“It’s less the fact that I’m- as you say- _Prudish_\- and more about the fact that I don’t enjoy the idea of you parading about in front of other males wearing nothing but your signature smile,” the Doctor grumbled. “_My _smile.”

“Not like they’d do anything about it except ask me to find something to cover up with,” Rose snickered. He muttered a soft Gallifreyan expletive under his breath.

“Yes, well-” they all tumbled to the floor as the TARDIS jerked wildly, lights flashing mauve and the Cloister Bells pealing a mile a minute. “_Other’s Ghost! What is that!?_”

“Other’s _What!?_” Rose exclaimed as she grabbed his arm and helped him get back to the scanner by quite literally clawing her way there. Ace managed to get to one of the floor-bolted armchairs and plonked herself down in it, rustling about in the cushions before extracting a seatbelt and strapping herself in. 

“It makes much more sense than ‘Great Caesar’s Ghost,’” he grumbled, tapping angrily at the keyboard. “At least the Other was a founding member of Time Lord society...” 

“What, and Caesar wasn’t a prominent figure in Roman conquering? Right... Two questions. Why is it his ghost? What happened? And can you shut those alarms off?”

“That’s three. I can answer two right now, and then the third later...” the Doctor frowned and tapped at the screen. Blissfully, the alarms turned off and all three heaved a sigh of relief. “First question answered. Second...” his eyes widened as he observed the swirling Gallifreyan text on the screen. “_What!? Quarantine!? What for!?_”

“Does that explain your disconnect from the Matrix?” Rose asked.

“Yes... see, it’s an automatic precaution. Due to the telepathy of our species, Gallifreyans are prone to mental diseases. Some of those can go plague.” He winced and rubbed at his temples, seeking in vain to alleviate the throbbing, before sighing. “When the quarantine order drops everyone off-planet is automatically shut out of the Matrix. The Matrix itself goes low-level, which means that it’s only involved in the data-gathering business. Getting my feet on Gallifreyan soil should alleviate the headache. We might all be disconnected from the generic hive field with the Matrix down, but being near one another is good enough.”

“Au natural. Should serve you better than most,” Rose murmured. “Natural set of instincts, been off-planet consistently for centuries...”

“Used to roughing it, you mean? Yes, I suppose so.” The Doctor flicked several switches, maneuvering the coordinates, and then grit his teeth. “Right. I’d follow Ace’s example if I were you, Rose. There’s a little-known flaw in the Transduction Barrier that protects our planet, and the only reason I know about it is because the maiden voyage of our particular TARDIS predates the construction of the Barrier _and _the Sky Trenches. _All _of the Sky Trenches.”

“The planet’s mostly impenetrable, and the entry point we can use to sneak in is difficult to get through without getting banged up.” Rose nodded and moved to stand directly behind the Doctor, wrapping her arms around her waist and firmly digging her nails into the edge of the console. “Consider the both of us strapped in.”

“You know, the TARDIS developed that ring of purely organic coral around the otherwise inorganic console solely for the reason that you keep stabbing her with your claws,” he commented lightly before pulling the dematerialization lever. “Right. Off we go then.” 

~§§~

“And you’re _sure _that it’s safe for us to go onto the planet with a quarantine in effect?” Ace asked skeptically. The Doctor nodded. 

“Ace, my people, we eradicated common illnesses ages ago,” he explained, racing around the console. Neither woman had any choice but to follow him down the corridor toward the wardrobe room. “Any ones that have cropped up since are extremely specific. Targeting recent regeneration as an after-sickness disorientation, telepathic epidemics, and of course basic untreated wound infections are impossible to fully destroy.”

“Could it be something new? I think Ace is worried her eyeballs will liquify,” Rose suggested mildly, handing the previously promised underwear and a matching tunic and leggings set to go with it. She took all items and trudged behind the nearest dressing booth curtain to change. 

“Oh, no, the illness would affect Time Lords or Gallifreyans only. Like I said, it’s very specific nowadays.” He waved a dismissive hand and dove between a pair of racks. There was a triumphant shout before he came back into view holding what looked to be a very strange helmet. It had no screen on it, with hoses hooked to a rebreather that fell in front of the mouth and the tubes connecting to the rest of the headset. 

“That’s very... yeah, no way to be tactful, it looks like a bad prop on the set of a cheesy 1980s sci-fi show,” Rose murmured, biting the side of her thumb. The Doctor’s pleased smile fell into a petulant scowl of annoyance. 

“Yea of little taste,” he muttered. “Fine. If it’s so horrible, _you _find a better alternative.” The scowl turned into a full pout as Rose easily produced a sleek and slim dimensionally-transcendental oxygen pack no larger externally than an MP3 player, a thin cannula attached like a pair of corded headphones that rested lightly underneath the nose and provided fresh, untainted oxygen directly to the wearer. “Yes, well. The TARDIS just likes you better.”

“Why do you even want something like that?”

“In case of airborne pathogen, bring your own air.” Rose nodded. 

“Right, yeah, suppose that makes sense.” A pause. “And if it’s telepathic? What does that mean for me?” The Doctor froze, eyes widening as he swallowed.

“Ah... well...” he let out a soft huff. “I keep forgetting you’re not entirely human anymore, even discounting your Wolf part. Your blood may be Terran, but your telepathic configuration... Do you... do you want to leave?”

“No, but I want you to take a breath and think it through before running out there without a contingency plan in case we need to hightail it back to the TARDIS real quick.” His brow furrowed slightly as he shoved the proferred rebreather in his pocket and straightened to a stand. 

“Not like you to be so insightful before an adventure.”

“Let’s just say the last time we ended up on a quarantined planet it didn’t end so well.”

“Ah.” They both glanced over as Ace came around the screen in a plain but comfortable-looking outfit, her puffy button-covered jacket stubbornly thrown over the top of it. “Well, the two of you are in for a treat. Say what you will about the less than desirable politics and people, but Gallifrey really is one of the most beautiful places you’ll ever see...” he trailed off and sucked in a soft breath, eyes clouding with a mixture of pain and longing. “Been an age since I was here last in any way that let me enjoy it properly.” 

“If we’ve got time I want a proper tour,” Rose said brightly, knowing the optimism was for show and that he was aware of that. The Doctor cast her a grateful look before they walked toward the exterior doors and stepped outside.

“Ah. Well... that’s disappointing,” he breathed out with a disappointed sigh as he peered out of the barn they’d landed in. It seemed close to falling entirely apart. “We seem to have landed in the Wastelands.” He kicked at a mound of tan sand in a sulky manner and Rose bit her lip with a smile. 

“I mean... it’s still a right sight different than Ea-“ he glanced over when she abruptly cut herself off, frowning slightly before following her line of sight and smiling softly when he gazed upon a Gallifreyan sunrise. 

The twin suns were just peaking over the horizon, a mountainous countryside with snow-capped peaks covered in silver trees and thick red grass. As the suns came up, turning the sky from deep dark umber to a rich golden-orange, the silver leaves caught the light and appeared to become enveloped in flame. The chill morning breeze immediately warmed and dispelled the pre-dawn vapors, and the Doctor breathed deeply of rich Gallifreyan air with a happy hum. 

“We need to head for the Capital,” he said quietly, not willing to break the moment just quite yet. “And luckily for you two, it happens to be in the direction of that sunrise.” 

“‘S beautiful,” Rose whispered reverently. Ace merely nodded agreement, jaw too far toward the ground to formulate any proper words. “How far are we from where you grew up?”

“The House of Lungbarrow is located much farther south,” the Doctor said dismissively. “However, the Prydonian Acadeny where I spent the great portion of my time isn’t too far away. In fact, I believe it’s-“ 

They all hit the sand as a massive explosion rocked the ground even from the bright flaring source far in the distance and to the Northeast of their current location. 

“It’s over there, isn’t it?” Ace asked flatly, spitting out sand. “Normally I love a good blast Professor, but I’m not too keen on wearing the beach when I’m not in my beach things, if you know what I mean.“

“Would you ladies mind if we took a detour?” He asked, peering with wide eyes over a dune. “And that’s not the Academy, Ace. That’s the Artron Microforum.”

“The _what!?”_

“Think it’s a necessity, really,” Rose said with a shrug, cutting off the Doctor’s reply. “A place that big and important full of people, that’s a forum... yeah, let’s go.” 

“How will we get there?” Ace muttered, frowning as she tried to scrape sand from her ponytail. “It’s pretty far away.” 

“And I’m pretty sure the TARDIS has some sort of quad bike for just such terrain...” the Doctor mused, turning to open the door and blinking when the key failed to turn in the lock. “Oh. She’s gone on low power and locked us out. I have the correct key, I have the pilot bond, she won’t even let _me _in right now.” 

“What’s that mean?” 

“It means, Ace, that either she doesn’t want to be detected or that something has greatly drained her energy. “I’m guessing the former of the two options to be the most likely.” 

“There’s some driftwood and rope over here!” Rose called from the opposite corner of the dilapidated barn. 

“And that helps us how?” Ace countered sarcastically. Rose shot her an annoyed look. 

“I was thinking that we could use it as a sort of sled,” she said patiently. “The pair of you sit on the wood, and hold tight to the lead ropes, and I take the rope in my mouth and pull.” 

“We’re going to want scarves,” the Doctor muttered, casting about for a similar type of cloth in what was left of the barn as Ace helped Rose make the rudimentary dogsled. 

They were soon flying across the dunes, the ground skimming under Rose’s paws with her passengers clinging on to the leads for dear life, and the distant smoke was quickly becoming more defined. The sand was slowly turning to sparse, prickly red grass that barely hindered her progress for the obstacle it posed, and soon they were in thick prairie with a massive Roman Forum-styled building burning before them. 

Screaming, crying was heard up ahead, and Rose skidded to a stop before racing ahead. The Doctor and Ace were left to scramble up from the makeshift sled and regain their bearings before following after her. 

“What’s got her so-“ Ace’s question was abruptly cut off by a short and chilling howl that sent shivers up both their spines, and without a second glance they picked up the pace. There, lying among the flames and wreckage of the main commons, was Leela and Narvin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is wondering just which helmet I was referring to, well... 
> 
> https://m.media-amazon.com/images/M/MV5BZDc4NjFlNDItZGEyZi00MzE2LWI3MWUtZTliZjIwM2ZjMWMzXkEyXkFqcGdeQXVyMjMzMzk2Mjg@._V1_.jpg
> 
> ...It’s this one. The one from “Four to Doomsday.”
> 
> My reference to Rose as a normal human being a touch empath is a headcanon that I really subscribe to, for reasons I shall list below... if you don’t care, then don’t bother reading the rest of this A/N, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
> 
> I headcanon for any and all Doctor Who canon that Rose is subconsciously touch empathic. We’ve seen from Tim Latimer and Gwyneth that while rare humans can be telepathic, and Rose just seems to really empathize with like. Everyone? On top of that she just automatically reaches for skin contact with anyone she’s trying to talk to, like she needs it to better understand them? Couple that with the fact that she touched a Dalek and gave it human emotions. She and the Doctor hold hands all the time, not just running, and he seems to take comfort from it just as much as she seems to seek his hand out when trying to understand his feelings on a subject - part of the reason I feel he distances himself when he wants to hide how hurt he is over something.
> 
> I also headcanon she inherited this from Pete, because both versions felt an immediate trust and connection to her without either Rose or Pete really fully understanding why. And when I say subconscious, I mean that she can use it to understand emotions and provide comfort and whatnot, but she doesn’t realize she’s doing it?
> 
> Idk I mean it just seems that the Doctor hardcore avoids skin on skin contact with her when he wants to hide his feelings and that when he’s feeling vulnerable the first thing he does is seek out that contact, and yeah I guess that can be attributed to the fact that they love each other, but come on. As a touch telepath himself it’s so lonely in his head after the Matrix and all of Gallifrey was destroyed, and the TARDIS always takes him where he needs to be... where would he most need to be to heal than to be in the presence of a touch empath who can give him back some of what he lost without even realizing it? I also feel that the Doctor is 100% aware (how could he not be as a telepath himself) but he’s afraid that if he mentions something she might stop holding his hand because it weirds her out or scares her.
> 
> Honestly a lot about Rose makes sense with that theory applied. Like, she instantly believed Harriet (Jones, MP Flydale North) despite not really having a reason to, especially when she saw the woman was a nuisance to the staff at 10 Downing. She knew she could trust Jack despite him not giving her a good reason to. She knew exactly why Nancy didn’t believe she was from the future and told her they won WWII. Despite Elton stalking her and her mum she felt sorry for him. She knew Donna’s fears in Turn Left and knew when and when not to push. With Gwyneth the pair really, really connected to one another and Rose was afraid of the Gelth more so than the other people present, despite the Doctor believing them when they said they needed aid and were peaceful. 
> 
> And she chose to trust the Doctor despite everything, realizing that more than anything else (even after he took her to see her planet burn) was that he needed her hand to hold. 
> 
> Okay, end theory explanation, have a wonderful day.


	43. Sticks and Stones IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is currently 10:00AM on December 24th of 2020 as I post this. For those that celebrate Christmas as I do, Merry Christmas. For those that do not, have a Happy Holiday Season. And, everybody, please, stay safe out there!
> 
> .
> 
> AAAAAAH I can’t believe it, but we’ve passed the one year anniversary mark! My fic is officially a year old now as of October 23rd! Congrats to everyone who’s stuck with it from the beginning! And thank you to all the well-wishes during the hiatus, they really mean a lot guys. 
> 
> Have you guys seen Wolfwalkers? It’s amazing, it’s incredible, my skin is clear-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to GingerGoldRose for commissioning that beautiful piece from Son-Neko:
> 
> https://ask-the-almighty-google.tumblr.com/post/634452635323351040/this-a-commission-piece-the-request-being-that
> 
> Seriously I love it it’s amazing.

_Gallifrey is currently engaged in the middle of a civil war. I, in this incarnation, am the elected Lady President. My opposer, who currently resides in the Presidential Palace and has hacked our one remaining K-9, is an ancient entity from the early days of the Time Lords. The first female President, who declared herself Imperiatrix and was summarily betrayed and hunted down. She left three parts of herself embedded in the Matrix, manipulating the bloodlines of my House, Heartshaven, to suit her own ends. The three parts are Past, Present, and Future. Cardinal Braxiatel drew two of those three parts into his own mind and exiled himself from Gallifrey to prevent The Imperiatrix, known as Pandora, from taking control of anyone else._

_At this current moment, the future part of Pandora has manifested herself in the form of my first incarnation and is using that as a loophole to keep herself in power. Darkel and Valyes are aiding her. My forces have been pushed to the brink of exhaustion, far too many of them dying to extract the outworld students from the Academy before Pandora could kill them. Leela and Narvin were to set bombs in the Artron Microforum to add an extra precaution. I scrambled the TARDISes’ Imprimaturs in the docking bays before I had to flee, but depriving them of fuel as well is double insurance._

_Due to the actions of a movement called Free Time, there is a virus loose on Gallifrey that attacks the Symbiotic Nuclei in our bodies and lays dormant until triggered by Regeneration, turning any who participate in such a live-saving action into a zombie. I’m planning on heading to the Anomaly Vaults to search for something that can win this war and put an end to the bloodshed._

_Any questions?_

“Just a few,” Ace mumbled from where she sat close to Rose, who was busy cleaning Narvin’s burns and applying ointment from the emergency first aid kit she kept in her jacket. The Doctor was sitting beside her, Leela’s head in his lap as he worked with the Sonic to carefully try and restore her eyesight. The explosion that had burned Narvin had blinded her as well.

They were currently inside the camp for Romana’s followers listening to her explain what had happened to bring them to this point, and she had just finished her explanation to stare at them expectantly.

“Could you go over that again, but _slowly?_” Rose asked. Romana fixed her with a calculative stare.

“Which part?” She asked.

“Pretty sure she means _all of it,_” the Doctor suggested. “I know you, I know our planet, and _I _had trouble following any of what you just said. Zombies, really? In the middle of a Civil War? Against a- a _what??_”

“An evil being from the dawn of time has stolen Romana’s old face and used it to take over the Presidency, and while she’s hunting us a ter- terrar- uh, _terrier _group is trying to kill Gallifrey with plague,” Leela summed up tiredly from where she was laying with her head on the Doctor’s thigh, face tilted up to give him access to her eyes. “And Romana’s K-9 is a _very _bad dog.”

“That... that’s the short version,” Romana sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and giving up on a full and intensive explanation of the current situation. It was useless. Rose uttered a soft Gallifreyan curse under her breath and her head snapped up, eyeing the Doctor with a glare that he ducked away from with a guilty wince. “How are her eyes, Doctor?”

“Badly damaged, but I started fixing the damage before any scar tissue could begin to form...” he bit his lip and sighed, running his fingers through Leela’s hair. “Please stop blinding yourself when I’m around, my dear. I can’t help but feel like a common denominator.”

“What is a-”

“Coincidence, Leela,” Rose laughed softly, lightly smearing more burn ointment over one of Narvin’s legs. “He feels guilty because it seems he’s always there when you hurt your eyes.”

“But you weren’t there when it happened, you showed up to help me after,” Leela pointed out, turning her head in the general direction his voice had been coming from and giving him a reproachful glare. They all looked up in alarm as a large, distance explosion shook the very ground they were sitting upon, the sound of screams and staser fire getting rapidly closer.

“Pandora’s guards seem to have found us,” Romana murmured, resigned.

“Ace, help get Narvin somewhere safe and finish applying the ointment,” Rose ordered, rising swiftly to a stand. “Without it he could die. Doctor-“

“Protect Romana and Narvin with Leela’s help,” the Doctor finished for her, nodding sharply and rummaging in his pockets before withdrawing a flash-bang with a triumphant cry. “Rose, be careful.”

“I’ll be back,” she murmured, stepping close and lightly pecking him on the lips before running toward the fight.

“Who is she to you, exactly?” Romana asked, curious.

“My Intended,” he breathed, eyes widening slightly as a long and low howl echoed through the camp before turning and helping Ace to load Narvin onto a stretcher. “Now, _Madame President, _I’d say it’s about time we got a shift on. Don’t you?”

“Your _Intended!?_ _When did you start caring about _**_marriage!?_**”

“Probably around the same time you became interested in Gallifreyan politics,” the Doctor snapped. “Now, come on, it’s me. What’s going on?”

“I’m losing control of the situation, everything is spinning in five hundred different directions... and I miss Brax,” she sighed. The Doctor tripped over a loose shoelace and gaped at her, not even reacting when Ace took the flash bang from him and threw it, setting it off.

“Brax? As in Irving Braxiatel?”

“Didn’t think you ran in the same circles,” Romana said with some surprise as she clambered over a rock and then turned to help Leela after her.

“He’s my elder brother.” It was Romana’s turn to trip and gape.

“By _blood!?_”

“We were both Loomed into Lungbarrow as siblings, but no, not by blood,” the Doctor muttered. “Adoption. Neither of us had any living blood ties on the planet. Glitch in the Loom, happened twice in quick succession, they destroyed that particular one after I came out for being so broken down.” He snorted. “Twenty-six cousins in Lungbarrow, that. I was the unlucky extra. Such a _scandal_.”

“So what you’re saying is that you’ve always been a problem,” Romana summarized.

“Exactly. And now I’m here to deal with _your _problem. Where are you thinking of relocating?”

“I want to send the others ahead to our newest safe location, but I myself need to head toward the Anomaly Vault,” She said decisively. While her guard gasped in shock, the Doctor merely blinked as a sign for her to continue speaking. “We’re losing this war. But there must be something in there we can use against Pandora.”

“Well, I- Ah.” The Doctor glanced down as Rose came trotting up beside him, tail waving like a triumphant pennant and the boot of a Chancellory Guard clamped firmly in her mouth. “Got that out of your system, did you?” She _boofed _at him around the footwear, muffling the noise but by no means obscuring the affirmative response.

“What- what is that thing??” The Commander asked. 

“A wolf, Hallan,” Romana said impatiently. “Though what it’s doing on Gallifrey is beyond me.”

“Easy enough answer,” the Doctor offered with a proud smile. “That’s my Intended.”

“T- Your Intended is a _werewolf!?_” Romana coughed.

“What, you expected her to be a vampire?” He sniffed, scowling. “And the term ‘werewolf’ is extremely derogatory, Romana. Please don’t use it again.”

“You can’t expect her to be able to form the bonds needed for-“

“Our Intent Bond is just fine.” His gaze narrowed, flinty. “And that’s absolutely none of your business.”

“What’s the Artron Microforum for?” Ace broke in, scowling. “You promised you’d explain.”

“That I did Ace. You see, TARDISes run on Artron energy. Time Lords generate this naturally, and it is a very rare fuel source. So, rather than letting the energy build to uncomfortable levels, Time Lords gathered in the Atron Microforum and... discussed things. Whilst there, the excess energy would be harmlessly absorbed and then transferred to the TARDIS docking bays. Romana, presumably, sent Leela and Narvin to blow it up to prevent a fuel source for Pandora.”

“Precisely,” Romana chipped in with a wince. “And obviously it did not go to plan.”

“How come your TARDIS doesn’t need that fuel though?” Ace asked, curious. “Never once seen you stop here for fuel.”

“Our TARDIS is a Type 40 Mark III, the oldest operating ship out of Gallifrey. Her power source is derived from a fusion of Artron and Huon in her core-“

“An extremely unstable but perpetually-renewing energy form,” Romana pointed out. The Doctor huffed good-naturedly.

“The instability is then corrected by a miniaturized Eye of Harmony in the Cloister Room, connected directly to the Eye of Harmony Proper,” he finished. “Essentially, the ship is powered by ancient time energy, which is stabilized by a very tiny black hole.”

“That has the power to unravel reality as we know it if it were to fall into the wrong hands. Like Pandora, for instance.”

“Which is most likely why the TARDIS went into low power mode and locked us out as soon as we landed, to prevent her from gaining access.”

“Space wizards,” Ace sighed dramatically. “Can never say one word where twenty will work just as well...” Rose made a hacking sound that sounded suspiciously like a laugh and the Doctor snatched the boot she’d been carrying with a glare.

“All right, come on, that’s enough of the silent observer bit, back me up here,” he ordered. Rose shrugged and continued walking without so much as any proper form of acknowledgement to his words. His shoulders slumped and he let out an exasperated groan. “Typical. Absolutely typical.”

“A pity Narvin is asleep,” Leela lamented with a smirk. “He would have enjoyed this.” She squinted toward the horizon and gasped. “The darkness is lightening. Instead of empty blackness there is a stormy grey.”

“Seems I got to it quick enough then,” the Doctor deduced with a satisfied nod. “I was worried it was too late.”

“Can we _please _go back to the part where I’m flying around in a ship that could blow up at any minute and take reality with it?” Ace interrupted, excitement dancing in her eyes. “Me. The gal who got expelled from school for mixing Nitro-9 in the chemistry lab.”

“Who are you again, exactly?” Commander Hallan asked, clearly concerned.

“A pyromaniac,” the Doctor sighed, rubbing at his temples. “An _underage _pyromaniac with authority issues.”

“Standard fare for the Doctor then.”

“Pretty much,” Rose said, popping out beside Hallan as she shifted and grinning as he screamed. She ignored Romana and went straight to Leela, placing a hand in the center of her back. “Steep drop, track left.”

“Thank you, Rose,” Leela breathed gratefully, taking her advice to avoid the sinkhole in front of them. “Where are we to set up camp, Romana? All I can taste on the air is dust. This is a dead place.”

“The Outlands.” The Doctor frowned contemplatively. “Romana, do you have allies at the Prydonian Academy? It isn’t that far from here.”

“The building has been abandoned for now,” Romana replied back, then raised an eyebrow. “It hadn’t occurred to us to set up base there, but it would be the last thing Pandora would expect...”

“If we could get the Academy defenses back up and running, it would also take minimal effort to defend it,” Hallan pointed out. “It could work.”

“Much as I’m tempted, I’m standing firm on entering the Anomaly Vault,” she countered, crossing her arms.

“And who says we can’t team up?” Rose asked. “You know, divide and conquer. Ace and I could go with Hallan and take Leela and Narvin with us to set up camp at the Academy. You and the Doctor could go to the Vault.”

“You’ll need this for Leela’s eyes,” the Doctor said, quickly tossing her his sonic screwdriver. “Already on the correct setting.”

“Cheers. Hallan, Romana’s in safe hands. They used to travel together and got up to a lot more mischief than what she wants to get up to right now, ta? But no one will listen to me about relocating considering they have no idea who I am.” Hallan bit his lip before conceding the point and moving to swap places with Rose in holding the stretcher so that he could take point, Ace huffing on her end of the stretcher and Leela moving to stand close beside her out of necessity as Romana turned in a different direction.

“See you soon!” The Doctor called before springing into a sprint to catch up with Romana, who was power-walking like an absolute champ over the chalky dunes. “Romana, wait up!”

“Well, now we’ve given them a little task, we can actually get something accomplished,” Rose sighed, inordinately pleased with herself. Hallan raised an eyebrow.

“...Did you just get rid of the Lady President of Gallifrey so that I could successfully perform administration duties?”

“Isn’t that how politics works?”

“...Fair enough...”

They watched as Narvin let out a groan and rolled off the stretcher, landing with an unceremonious thud in the dirt. After a few moments, Rose nudged him with the tip of her boot.

~§§~

“So come on, what exactly is this Dogma Virus?” The Doctor asked as they trudged through the sand. He’d shucked his coat ages ago and tucked it into his pants pocket, the cricket jumper following shortly after, and just now he was taking the collar of his shirt one button lower and rolling up his sleeves to get more ventilation. It was also slated to be untucked from his trousers as soon as he was finished with the sleeves. Romana had admirably remained in her heavy white presidential robes, typical Gallifreyan fabrics being what they were ventilating and thermalizing at the wearer’s needs to accommodate for the Gallifreyan environment. Ace would probably be quite comfortable right about now, as a matter of fact...

...He tried not to think about Rose stripping down to her camisole with the thin spaghetti straps to deal with the heat and shook his head to rid the image from his mind.

“Well, it attacks our Symbiotic Nuclei and remains dormant. A Time Lord or Lady could feasibly be a carrier without even realizing for centuries. However, it catalyzes during Regeneration, triggered by the unique energy cocktail we give off. When the golden fire ceases, the poor soul is just a shell of what they once were. Clinically brain dead but still living, their bodies decaying...”

“Like the Master before he stole the body of Nyssa’s father,” the Doctor summarized sagely, nodding. “Crispy and burnt?”

“...I have questions to ask you about that later, but no, more like zombies in the traditional Earth pop culture sense,” Romana explained, giving him a strange look and then shrugging as she tossed a lock of long blonde hair over her shoulder.

“You said it came from a... a terrorist group?”

“Yes. Free Time Movement. When I opened the Academy to non-indigenous species they sent a... representative to ‘study’ here and do some rather nasty work in the labs. They somehow released it into the population.” Her expression dulled with sadness and she kicked at a clot of sandy dirt with her boot. “Castellated Wynter gave his life trying to warn us in time, and we were nearly too late to catch on. He was... he was a good man, Doctor. A selfless man. You would have admired him. His political ambitions lay purely in proving that he was up to the task despite being straight out of the Academy.”

“He died young.”

“And endured the worst pain imaginable. Quite probably unimaginable, really. Pandora possessed him- well, tried to. To prevent her from succeeding, he- stuck his hands in a closing automatic door to sever them and- and bit off his own tongue so that she could not steal his voice.”

“Infected with the Dogma virus... to hold off Regeneration in such excruciating agony... It must have killed him,” the Doctor murmured, quietly awed at the sacrifice and deeply disturbed by the lengths that had to be taken to safeguard Gallifrey.

“In the end, it did,” Romana sighed. “And he finally felt peace.” She shook her head. “But Free Time. We don’t know who put them up to it, or why, only that it happened. Intelligence has been abysmal with the civil war going on.”

“And what exactly _is _Pandora?”

“A parasite, a face-stealer, and a menace,” Romana said flatly, eyes flashing as she reined in her anger. The Doctor rolled his eyes.

“Naturally. But apart from that.”

“How many _Lady _Presidents has Gallifrey had, Doctor?”

“...Ehm...”

“Counting myself, three. And Lady Flavia lasted an incomplete term.”

“...That doesn’t bode well for projecting an image of gender equality,” he coughed, rubbing at the back of his neck and wincing. Romana smirked.

“No, it doesn’t. Especially when I tell you that the other was Pandora. Her term of office occurred extremely early in Time Lord history, just a few millennia after Rassilon died, as a matter of fact. She established herself as a dictator under the title of Imperiatrix, and when she was finally deposed her consciousness was locked deep in the Matrix behind any number of failsafes. The problem with walls is that they eventually crumble over time.

“Pandora was able to free a portion of herself and reach beyond the barriers. In doing so she manipulated the House Bloodlines so that I could be where she wanted me to be, who she wanted me to be, and when she wanted me to be. I am, in effect, for better or worse her bodily reincarnation. At least, my first incarnation was. She stole that form when she rebuilt her physical self and is now using my former voice and face.”

“Yes... wonder where I’ve heard that before...”

“Hm?” She blinked, remembering suddenly. “Oh! Yes, of course. Brax couldn’t stop laughing over that whole incident with Omega trying to steal your current body. The shoddy copy he made really was a topic of hilarity on Gallifrey for several months afterward.”

“Oh! Glad you were all amused,” the Doctor said with false joviality. “It was absolutely terrifying for me. I was literally in the execution chamber about to be vaporized at one point. The only thing that saved me was Omega’s self-serving intervention.”

“...Brax neglected to mention that.”

“About your relationship with my brother-“

“Oh look, we’re here. Wonderful timing.”

“Yes. Convenient, I think the word is.”

“Hush.” They came upon a structure half-buried in the sand, the walls and roof smooth and a dark creamy gold stone to blend with the natural landscape. The door was made of the same material with an inscription written upon it in Old High Gallifreyan and Romana groaned. “It would have to be in a dead language, wouldn’t it?”

“Dead to some,” the Doctor murmured, smirking gleefully and rubbing his hands together as he pulled out a notebook and ball point pen. “Give me a second...”

-/\\-

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Narvin groused from where he sat on the ground, arms crossed over his chest as he scowled.

“You face planted in the dirt and then had to rub the sand off your tongue, I don’t think you have any dignity left by staying silent,” Rose countered as Hallan wheezed with laughter behind her. “But I’ll humor you. How are your burns?”

“Mostly raw but healthy skin now thanks to immediate medical attention,” he murmured, expression softening into something that could be vaguely construed as something loosely related to gratitude. “I gather that was your doing.”

“If that’s a thank you, I guess I’ll take what I can get,” she sighed. “Leela, c’mere. I need to give your eyes another round on the Sonic.” Leela sat patiently as Rose worked, entire body completely still.

“Where are we going?” Narvin asked, standing and brushing himself off as the Sonic whirred.

“The ruins of the Prydonian Academy,” Hallan explained. “Pre-made defenses we can repair, stores that haven’t had time to be emptied, dormitories, and an observatory from which we can see any approaching enemy... whether they be a few miles away or a few billion. All of it sheltered from the elements.”

“And who thought of that, the Doctor?” Narvin scoffed. When no one said anything he rolled his eyes and sighed. “Naturally. Safest place in his mind, the location of severe terrorist bombing...”

“At least he suggested _something_,” Ace snapped. “Romana wanted to go to the Anomaly Vault and wasn’t suggesting any sort of place for encampment, from what I saw.”

“She speaks true,” Hallan said quickly as Narvin opened his mouth to deliver a snide retort. “And while I might have seniority here, Leela and Ace both defer to Miss Tyler so neither of us truly have much say.”

“Not true Hallan,” Rose countered. “This is your planet, not mine. I’m not so egotistical to assume I know best. However. Narvin.”

“Yes, _milady?_” She leveled a glare on him and he shriveled at the heated weight of it.

“Hallan’s in charge. Got it?”

“...Ma’am.”

“I’ve never seen him take orders so easily before, even from Romana,” Hallan whispered as they started walking across the desert again, the remains of Romana’s followers trudging through the sand behind them.

“We’ve met before and he seems to be under the opinion that I might eat him if he gets on my bad side,” Rose whispered back. Hallan snickered in response to that before paling.

“You wouldn’t, would you?”

“I don’t eat junk food.”

“Oh.”

“What exactly were you doing on that Cheetah Planet anyway?” Ace asked. Narvin winced.

“The Lord Cardinal programmed in the coordinates for my Time Ring to go to a completely different- and might I add _undisclosed_\- location. But it seems he wanted me to take a... _detour _first.”

“So someone knew we were in trouble and sent a rescue party.”

“If you like.”

“Well, why would anybody here care about the Doctor and a couple of humans?” Ace huffed, crossing her arms. “It’s not like you lot have ever taken an interest before.”

“Cardinal Braxiatel doesn’t need an explanation for what he does, nor will he give one even _if _required,” Hallan laughed. “Romana would let him get away with anything except for treason or murder.”

“Rassilon knows why,” Narvin sighed, kicking a stone and watching it go flying. “I find him to be a very irksome individual.”

“Probably why she keeps him then,” Rose chirped brightly. Narvin scowled but bit his tongue in response to that. An explosion sent up a large cloud of dust near the back of the procession and Rose turned quickly on her heel. “They’ve caught up. Ace, stay here and guard the front of the column with Leela. I’ll take the back.”

“Just be careful!” Ace called as Rose shifted into her pelt and took off over the dunes with a howl. Several high-pitched screams sounded the immediate retreat of the enemy patrolmen who had had the misfortune of meeting her on the last engagement and Ace shook her head. “You can take the Wolf out of the hunt, but you can’t take the hunt out of the Wolf...”

“Nor the warrior from battle when her hunting knife thirsts for blood,” Leela hissed softly, crouching low. “My sight returns slowly, but these blurry shapes are not friendly.”

“Just throw where you see the bright explosions,” Ace suggested as she primed a can of Nitro-9 and grinned ferally. “These guys are gonna regret getting out of bed this morning.”

“I like you, Ace McShane. I shall show you how to use Janis Thorns before you leave.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Housekeeping notes: I am expanding this story from four parts into five because there is a lot of information I need to work with and four chapters would have given me too little space to work it all out in. 
> 
> If any of you are curious (or more likely, confused) by what certain things are, I have wiki links for you...
> 
> Symbiotic Nuclei: https://tardis.fandom.com/wiki/Symbiotic_nucleus
> 
> Dogma Virus: https://tardis.fandom.com/wiki/Dogma_Virus

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: ALL RIGHTS GO TO THE BBC, DOCTOR WHO, BIG FINISH, AND ANY OTHER AFFILIATES. THIS IS A NON-PROFIT FANFICTION INTENDED FOR ENJOYMENT ONLY.


End file.
